My Herculean Husband Lifts Really Heavy Weights

Photo by Rusty Boxcars

You’re not going to believe this, but my darling hubby told me that felt “insulted” by my last blog. Yes, the one about how much he contributes to cleaning on our traditional housekeeping day, which is Saturday. In case, you missed that particular blog, Chet’s contribution is vacuuming. Yes, that’s right; he vacuums while I do everything else. In fact, if we lived on a farm, which we don’t and which is probably a good thing given Chet’s aversion to physical labor, I could get up at the crack of dawn, go out and plow the north 40, and when I finished—you guessed it—Chet would still be vacuuming. Now, back to why Chet was offended by my previous blog.

The reason Chet took offense isn’t what you’re probably thinking. It wasn’t because I said that he vacuums for hours on end while I clean the entire house, cook, mow our lawn, mow the neighbor’s lawn, and paint the living room (A little exaggeration perhaps, but not much). Chet, bless his heart, was upset because, when describing the black hole that’s his office, I said, and I quote, “There are weights stacked in the floor, and by weights, I mean everything from 25-pound dumbbells to 50-pound iron plates.” And just why was Chet affronted by this comment? Well, are you ready? It was because, in his opinion, the way I phrased the comment made it sound as if he lifts “baby weights,” and I should have described his weights more accurately in terms of poundage. (Roll of eyes)

Okay, so here goes: My herculean hubby, with his rippling pectorals (pecs) and gun-sized biceps lifts these really, really humongous weights. His dumbbells begin at a mere 15 pounds but go all the way up to a whopping 80 pounds, which he uses with absolutely no effort at all in order to execute curls, one-arm rows, flies, and other exercises, the names of which elude me at the moment. Oh, and the iron plates that he uses range from a lowly two-and-a-half pounds all the way up to an astounding 50 pounds, and he mixes these different weight plates (Hmm, weight and plates rhymes) to achieve maximum poundage for various exercises. For instance, he lifts 275 pounds when performing an exercise called the “dead lift,” And, by the way, he said to make sure that I tell everyone that he uses “good form” when executing movements and that no one is “spotting” him. ” In other words, it’s “all him.” (Another roll of eyes)

Also let me add that Chet has a curl bar, in addition to dumbbells, which he loads with plates of varying poundage in order to perform, well, curls obviously, and whatever other exercises one performs with a curl bar (The actual names of these exercises also elude me at the moment). He has another bar as well, though it’s straight instead of curved, which he loads with assorted plates to execute squats, and his squats aren’t “sissy” squats either but “macho” squats where his behind is “parallel” to his knees (Or something to that effect). Oh, and these are really heavy squats, too. (Don’t ask me how many pounds he uses because I haven’t the foggiest, but I know it’s a lot.)

Okay, there; I’ve clarified the matter of how much weight my darling hubby lifts. It’s now on record. He doesn’t lift “baby weights.” He lifts these really heavy, and I do mean heavy, weights and his dumbbells go all the way up to 80 pounds. Chet is so very strong, so absolutely herculean, that I’m surprised someone hasn’t nominated him for Mr. Universe. How’s that? Oh, and by the way, I not only cleaned the entire house today, cooked dinner, and did the laundry, I also vacuumed.