Is Your Training Partner Cheating On You?

Is Your Training Partner Cheating On You?

Have you ever turned up at the gym on a whim and caught your training partner working out with somebody else? Have you been driving along and noticed your running mate, laughing and freewheeling with a complete stranger?

It's an awkward situation and something that many of us have gone through and will probably go through again and again; but we must be strong my friends and keep our heads high.

I vividly remember the first time it happened to me. Picture this. It was a quiet little Sunday, not unlike any other Sunday and since it had been raining I thought I might head over to the gym, knock out an hour on the treadmill and catch up on some podcasts.

Every thing seemed normal until I saw my training partner Malcolm's light blue 2005 Camry with optional 17" alloy rims and custom plates "MALCDAWG" in the fitness center car park...WTF!?

This was unusual, why was Malcolm's Camry at the gym this early...on a Sunday no less!?

I quickened my pace and took a few deep breaths, something wasn't right and I could feel it in my bones. You see, things hadn't been the same with Malcolm and I lately, not since the last time we trained legs together...

Let me explain.

Malcolm and I met at the gym counter and instantly became best friends when it came about that we both like watching Premier League Football (that's all two guys need to create a lifelong bond).

Of course we'd seen each other around the gym before and shared man nods from time to time, but never really taken the time to chat, as every guy knows, that's kind of creepy and weird and the real reason god invented ear phones.

So after chatting and finishing our post workout shakes, we instantly become BFF's and set up a time to train back in two days time.

That first session was incredible and their was definitely a connection. Malcolm enjoyed deadlifts and so did I...this was too good to be true!

We continued training together for about 6 weeks on a 3 on 1 off split by my call and we were both getting great results; most notably in our compound lifts.

Everything was going swell and while I generally prefer training alone, it was a nice change to train with someone else who was as motivated to dominate the weight room as me.

Then after about 7 weeks, I noticed that something wasn't quite right. Malcolm and I had locked in an early morning leg session for 7am and when he turned up, he was visibly walking quite gingerly.

I asked Malcolm if he was cool and he said he'd twisted his ankle putting out a grass fire or something, but he was fine and good to go.

As the workout continued, I noticed that he was continually changing his balance and it became obvious to me that he hadn't twisted his ankle at all; he'd trained legs two days earlier!!

I didn't let on that I knew and just kept it all inside and justified my football loving friends actions with "maybe he just wants to bring his legs up some".

Back to the story and fast forward to that Sunday and there Malcolm was, screaming at another man to give him "2 more" on the bench.

Should I walk out and pretend that I didn't see him? But it was too late, Malcolm had seen me in the giant wall mounted mirrors that are right by the heavy dumbbells, or what we coined the 'Pain Zone'.

After Malcolm glanced up and then assisted his new friend rack the bar, he turned to me suddenly, like his girlfriend had just called him in for a high protein, low carb meal.

This was going to get ugly.

"Hey Mally Mizzle My Nizzle" I casually said like any other day. "Hey Bizzle Fo Shizzle The Dizzle With The Mizzle" he replied...but their was distance in his voice, especially from "The Dizzle" part onwards.

"Can we talk", he asked. "Of course", I replied.

He high fived the 'Gym Wrecker' and we sat by the smith machine which was loaded with 140kgs, which was coincidentally Malcolm's personal best at the moment for incline smith presses.

This was clearly not the first time that Malcolm had been through this kind of terrible situation as he was very calm and what he said next almost seemed scripted.

"Big Bizzle, I know we have been through a lot...the time you brought me the spew bucket after our epic back session; the time you saved the treadmill for me at peak hour on a Monday night, I don't want you to think that these things don't matter to me, because they do, they really do!" He exclaimed.

"But lately, 3 on 1 off has not been working out for me...I can't lie to myself or you any longer, I am and will always be a 5 on 2 off kind of guy!"

He knew how I felt about 5 on 2 off and this must have been so hard for him to say.

We looked at each other directly in the eyes via the mirror that always made us look bigger under the good light and after a sigh of relief from Malcolm, we went through our 12 part secret brother handshake one last time.

The entire gym was rocked and shocked when we went our separate ways, but I still see Malcolm around the club from time to time and funnily enough, he's training by himself again these days.

On the bright side; my compound lifts have actually progressed even more since the break up, so some good has come of all of this insanely crazy mess.

We still talk about the Premier League from time to time, but he's a Manchester United supporter and my heart rests with Arsenal so I guess it was only a matter of time before we would clash any way.

Has this ever happened to you? Do you see the signs?

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