Failure to Communicate

 

FAILURE TO COMMUNICATE

by Gym Dude

 

My name is Mark Phillips, and I work for a company that develops computer boards. One of my responsibilities involves setting up manufacturing plants and making sure that when they get up and running everything is interfacing with the rest of the company. That means travel and while I enjoy seeing new places and meeting new people, it really messes up my workout schedule. I don’t mean to sound narcissistic, but staying in shape is really important to me. It’s hard enough having to deal with restaurant food, but not getting my regular workouts is just not something I’m willing to put up with.

 

I’m only 25, which is fairly young for this kind of responsibility, so I work extra hard to make sure everything stays on track. I need to make my time count, so the first thing I do is scope out the local gyms and set something up as near to my hotel as possible. Those puny exercise areas at hotels just don’t cut it and they never seem to be open when I need them. This works better for me and gives me a chance to meet some local lifters.

 For the next few months, I’m on travel in Korea to work with a factory just outside of Seoul. Naturally, my first priority was making gym arrangements I found a great place just outside of the city, not far from my hotel and close to a park that looks perfect for aerobics training. I like exercising outside whenever I get the chance.

 I must admit that I cause quite a stir since people in this part of town don’t see many Americans, especially those built like me. At six feet, I’m carrying a fairly buff 212 pounds. That’s a bit lighter than my football days in college. Study and football where my primary focus while in school and of course working out whenever possible. I did a little boxing and messed around with wrestling, but that was mostly sparring with guys on both of those teams, since we were lifting together. The competition was serious and it really helped toughen me up. I could hold my own with many of the wrestlers, but the heavyweights really enjoyed cleaning the clock of a man built like me.

 While I enjoyed training with the guys in college and the competition in the ring and on the mats, I do most of my workouts solo now. Travel really interferes with training schedules. The gym I found here in country is my kind of place. It’s well lighted, and very well equipped. It never seems to be too crowded and the guys here look like they’re in pretty good shape. Like most Orientals, the guys are not too tall, with a few exceptions. Koreans have a tendency to be a little more stocky than other Oriental races and those who work out seem to bulk up pretty nice. Still, the guys at this gym are not used to seeing Americans, especially those with a really buff physique. They are unaccustomed to seeing a big man get a really good pump going, getting the muscles really flushed and hitting great peaks, like I enjoy from my workouts.

 I didn't notice at first, but my heavyweight workout and my ripped body was beginning to attract a crowd. Especially the younger teenage lifters were standing wide-eyed, elbowing one another and occasionally flexing their own biceps then pointing at mine. I was concentrating so hard on my third set of curls with 190 pounds on the EZ-curl bar, my guns were blasted to nearly 19", when I looked around and saw my audience I nearly blushed with embarrassment. Many of the young studs there didn't speak English, but I could tell by the chatter that they were impressed and entertained.

 A few of the bigger guys pointed at their fully flexed biceps then at the arm-wrestling table. I grinned and nodded and we were off for a little fun and games. I took it easy on the guys and made them work at it, then would just smile and slowly lower their overwhelmed arms to the deck. It was all good-natured fun and they knew up front that they didn’t stand a chance against these guns.

 A couple of hard-bodied and well-muscled dudes stepped forward and pointed at the ring in the center of the gym. They smiled then went through the motions of a body slam. You don’t have to know the language to know what they wanted. One by one, I would take on all comers. These were not serious matches, we were just playing around. It gives them a chance to test their worked-out bodies against a real bodybuilder’s physique. We all knew they never really stood a chance. I would show them a few holds then let them lock me up. After a few minutes I would easily power out of their holds then let them feel a little sample of my strength before letting them up. They seem to enjoy a hard body and thick muscles working them over leaving them helpless. Each man would try his best, then return to his buddies flexing his muscles and jabbering about how well he held up against me. It was all good fun.

 Just then the crowd parted to make room for one of the local lifters. I could tell from the reaction this must be the "king of the hill". Obviously, a man who had been lifting for some time, and taller than the rest, he stood at least 5'10" or maybe 5'11". It's tough to estimate these guys for weight, but the big guy looked to be a good 200 pounds or so. For a Korean he was unusually lean and showed some well-developed muscle. He said something and the crowd started to dissipate as the guys looked back sheepishly and headed back to their workouts.

 Another shorter and lighter, but well worked out stud appeared at his side. If he were not standing next to all that muscle, you would have admired his physique as one of the better bodies in the gym, but the "big man" left no doubt who was in charge. The second guy spoke English and for a moment I began to feel more at ease. I wasn't sure what was going on, the bigger man didn't look really pissed, but he certainly didn't look happy. I would say "annoyed" might be a better word. It was clear to me that he was the man with the power in that gym, and now there was someone here who was bigger and stronger than him.

 His partner introduced himself then his big buddy. The big guy never smiled, he just put his hand out to shake in a very businesslike manner. With no expression on his face, the muscles in his arms jumped to attention as he began to tighten his grip. The big man wanted to put me in my place early and show everyone who was boss. Even though our audience had spread out around the gym, every eye on the place was still on us. I smiled slightly and returned the favor. Again, he turned up the power and again I gave it right back to him. After nearly a minute of this, both hands were turning white and his muscular arm was beginning to tremble with the force. Bound and determined that I would not be bested by the smaller man, I smiled a little more and raised at least two more levels. The big guy's expression never changed, but I could see a look of doubt in his eyes. For probably the first time in his life, the muscleman was up against a force as great or greater than his and he didn't know what to do. There was no way out except to admit defeat in front of all the other lifters. I knew from my business dealings how destructive it would be for him to have that happen and I had no need or intention to cause the big man to lose face. He knew I could at least match him and that my bigger muscles were not just for show, but he had no way out from the competition.

 I held his hand then tightened once more. His face was like stone, but I could see a look of pain creeping into his eyes. I smiled at him, then nodded as a gesture that I was not going to continue and humiliate him. I could see a look of relief on his face and maybe a hint of a smile as he nodded back and we broke the death grip we held on one another. All the other lifters knew what had been going on, but to each of them it looked like we had finished our fun and called it a draw. I relaxed thinking that I was just the nicest guy in the world and had earned a new friend, but that was not the case.

 The big guy said something to his buddy, who relayed it to me. He noticed that I like to fight the little guys in the gym, would I care to take on a real man? He made it sound like I was picking on the rest of the lifters, when actually we were just having fun, but if he wants some serious competition, I’m up for it. His little buddy translated while I smiled back at him, then he motioned toward the ring. It would seem that the fight was “on”.

 We agreed on a single fall, no rules fight. The translator told me the Korean has never been beat. I’ve just polished off the most muscular men in his gym one after the other and I’m not too worried about this guy. His little buddy tells me that if I get in over my head to use the word “Ahhee” to signal submission. With the clearly superior build and my fighting background, I know I won’t need it, but I tuck the information away anyhow.

 I do a little flexing to loosen up and intimidate this guy a little then we face one another. The big guy has a very serious look, but we start off with mostly scientific wrestling, both testing out some moves and measuring our opponent. I am having no real trouble powering out of his holds and use my muscle advantage to counter and power a few good holds on him. Both of us have demonstrated to the other that we have the strength to get the job done and before long we move on to some more decisive muscle-wrestling moves. I finally start pouring on the coal with a full-nelson and make the big Korean suffer for a bit, then let him break the hold. There is no reason to put him away so soon. The guy gives me a smile which I return.

 While it is definitely taking most of my skill and power to escape from his grip and execute my own controlling moves on this powerful dude, the competition stays on a friendly track, that is until the guy decides to show me what he can do. As we prepare to lock up again, the muscular Korean moves with the speed and agility I had not witnessed from him before. In an instant he lunged forward sweeping me off my feet and holding me in his arms at chest height. I didn’t need a translator to understand his chuckle, before he demonstrated a perfect body-slam, powering me soundly to the canvas. The impact knocked the breath out of me and I knew I had to get to my feet quickly before he could follow up. Pretending that I wasn’t hurt, I spun around and returned to my feet.

 On way back up I felt a stunning chop to the traps causing a sharp pain to shoot down my right arm. In just a fraction of a second, I was treated with another, followed by two more on the other side. The Karate shots to my shoulders were devastating, but the muscular Korean was too good of a fighter to let me off easy. While he had me hurt, he followed up quickly with a series of shoulder breakers and some weakening arm holds followed by a convincing double hammerlock capped off with a handstand and knee to back. This guy knows how to fight! It was clear that my well-muscled foe had been holding back on me. The gloves were off, as they say, and time for me to get serious too.

 I had no real experience with Karate, and this guy was using his punches and chops with amazing effectiveness. I struggled to get to my feet but my powerful attacker just kept knocking me down again. The big Korean began to add devastating kicks to my obloquies and lats. It didn’t take him long before I was too beaten to defend myself. My muscular foe soon discovered my inability to attack and opened up powering his fists to my deltoids, biceps and triceps. I was amazed at how quickly the tide had turned leaving the once unbeatable bodybuilder unable to even lift my massive arms to defend myself. The big fighter chuckled at my situation, knowing he could now do anything he wanted I would be unable to respond.

 The powerful athlete said something to his friend, then grabbed one of my useless arms and pulled me to my feet. I could no longer stand under my own power, but before I could fall, he ripped a series of power shots to my washboard stomach. Already weakened from his vicious Karate kicks, his fists easily found their mark and delivered the intended damage. In an instant, I was swept in the air again only to crash uncontrollably across his knee in an agonizing back breaker.

 I’ve had enough. It was clear I could not compete against this man’s power and skill. I was finished, it was time to submit. “Ahhee”, I mumbled, but he didn’t stop! Surely, he must know I can’t fight back. Why would this guy need to pound someone after his man is already beaten and offering his submission? “Ahhee” I screamed over and over, but the beating continued. In fact, it got even worse. The big guy delivered two more body slams and I could hardly breathe. Then he shows off his power by effortlessly lifting me again. I felt as limp as a wash rag as the muscular Korean carefully positioned my big body and stretched me across his broad shoulders in a torture rack!

 “Oh NO! God, man! You’ve got the big muscleman whipped! You’ve made your point! Oh God, the pain! Please! Please don’t do this. I can’t take any more. AHHEE! AHHEE! AHHEE!” I screamed helplessly. The powerful fighter flexed his muscular arms, twisting my broken body down across his thick, solid shoulders. I begged his buddy to stop the torture but all he did was give me that “There’s nothing I can do” look.

 Stretched to the breaking point I screamed and begged the Korean for submission, but the big man just cranked down that much harder. It felt like my massive muscles were being torn from my body. I’ve never felt so weak and helpless in my life. I couldn’t understand why this guy was so intent on my total destruction. He flexed his powerful arms and pulled again and again as though he wanted to break me clean in half. One more powerful flex was more than my battered, broken and helpless body could take. After being rendered unconscious the big man released what was left of me to drop in a heap to the canvas.

 I would later learn that the mighty Korean fighter stood for a few moments above me laughing at the fallen bodybuilder, then his buddy slapped him on the back and they left the gym with me still out cold on the mat.

 Some of the young lifters crawled in the ring and slapped me enough to bring him around. I barely remember them helping me to the showers. Under the refreshing spray of hot water, I slowly regained some control of my limbs. It took the better part of an hour before I could dress myself and head towards the door. I tried to thank the lifters that helped me and while I didn’t know the words, I’m sure they got the message.

 When checking out at the counter, the manager congratulated me on holding up so well in the fight and being able to take so much punishment. He explained that the big guy is a training sergeant with the ROK forces and as far as he knows has never been beaten. In fact, no man had lasted as long as I did. That didn't make me feel much better, I was still racked with pain from head to toe.

 Then he added the icing on the cake. What amazed everyone most was my incredible toughness. Not only was I able to take this man’s most vicious holds, but all the time I kept shouting, " give me more, give me more!"

 If I'm going to spend much more time over here, I'm going to HAVE to learn the language!