“How’s it hanging?” Was an old greeting loaded with smug schoolboy sexual innuendos we junior high boys accosted one another. These days, that dangling ditty has transitioned to a reply of “hanging in there.” Well, if you are just hanging in there, sooner
or later your grip is going to slip, and when you slip you fall. I’m pretty much guessing sooner.
Most seniors these days could not hang on a dangling chunk of hemp rope at the gym if they had a red-hot railroad spike inches below their aging asses.
A few years ago, I was working out at a local gym when I bumped into an acquaintance dating back to my Little League days. Sadly, he did not greet me by asking “how’s it hanging?” He promptly performed 20 elevated pushups off a bench and then said, “I start out every workout with 20 pushups.” He then proceeded to tell me he would do ten reps of this movement and ten reps of that movement and ten reps of such and such at such and such a load and he droned on and on about ten-counts, and soon I lost my concentration and started to think the only way this dude was going to have any variation in his routine was if he were poor at math or changed his gym clothes once in a while.
Despite my occasional lack of concentration, I read a book highlighting a study that basically stated that having a purpose in life results in more longevity than from pursuing happiness. To me, meaning or purpose or whatever you want to label it means to me having a goal. If you are just hanging in there, or siting at the same seat in the Ten-Count Café, you are more likely to sooner go down for the permanent ten count.

While studying for my International Sports Science Association personal trainer certification, I learned a lesson that has stuck to me like Juicyfruit to the bottom of the leg press machine: If you don’t put your goals in writing, they are merely dreams.
So if your goal is to lose weight or to become healthier or to lower your blood pressure or maybe to become stronger, put it in writing. But “becoming stronger” or the like, is rather vague and doesn’t conjure up any images to visualize. A better goal would be “to increase my one-rep bench press max from 100 pounds to 120 pounds.” But that’s still kind of a pipe dream. Write a goal down in a workout journal or post it upon a wall, or both. Something about jotting your goals on paper makes them real. So, write them all down where you can see them daily—repeatedly–write them down in your own lingo. Revert back to your junior high days if you have to,
Give yourself a time frame to achieve that 20-pound increase. Something about setting a time goal creates a sense of urgency. Write in positive language, not “I want to or I wish to.” So, write on your workout journal, for example: “I will add 20 pounds to my bench press in 6 weeks or less” or write the date, for example—May 26, by the way—hint hint, my birthday. Use the cardinal numbers 6 and 20 instead of six and twenty because they stand out from the remainder of the text.
If you are one of those 10-rep dudes, make sure the next level you want to reach is 11 reps of the same poundage, or the next week ten reps with an additional 5 pounds or so.
If you want to climb that hemp rope to the gym rafters, you are probably going to have to hang on as long as you can, probably with your toes on the floor and the red-hot railroad spike an image in your brain. Eventually, you will be able to climb in small increments, say 6 inches one week , a foot or two the next and sometime later tap that beam and deposit your Juicyfruit.
And if you happen to bump into an old chum dating way back and he asks you “How’s it hanging,” just reply “Six more inches than last week.” That ought to stir up some vivid images in his skull.