Max Arena (8 page)

Max nodded and
lowered himself to the floor. He started his push ups, slowly at
first, but then as he got closer to ten, he sped up. After twenty,
he pushed himself to his feet.

Kris mused
silently for a moment and then said, ‘Give me twenty more, but this
time put your feet up on the bench behind you.’

Max turned to
look at the bench and then lowered himself down again, planting his
toes on the red, vinyl covered bench to elevate his feet. Thirty
seconds later, Max was finished and back standing. Kris scanned him
for any signs of fatigue and failed.

‘Good,’ she
said at last. ‘Now, tell me how you got that chest of your’s?
Lifting weights or all natural?’

‘All natural,’
Max said.

Behind Kris,
Elsa smiled.

‘Alright,’ Kris
continued, ‘let’s do some bench press. We’ll start you off light
and then see what you can get up to, but before we do that, let’s
do a few more upper body stretches just to make sure nothing goes
pop.’

A few minutes
later, with his torso and arms fully stretched, Max lay on a bench
with a weighted barbell resting on the rack over his prone
form.

‘Okay, there’s
forty kilos on the bar,’ Kris started. ‘I reckon you’ll lift this
easy, but just go steady. We don’t want you in traction before you
have to save the world. Try for ten.’

Max nodded and
grabbed the bar firmly with both hands, assuming a wide grip.
Pushing upwards, he easily lifted the bar clear. Then, lowering it
slowly to his chest, he paused before pushing it all the way back
up. At the top, he paused again and then lowered it down to his
chest again. Kris watched carefully, her arms crossed and a slight
knit in her brow. After his tenth repetition, Max gently clattered
the bar back onto the rack and sat up.

‘How was that?’
Kris asked.

‘Like you said.
Easy,’ Max replied.

‘Let’s double
it,’ Kris shot back. ‘Grab another twenty kilo plate and bang it on
that end. I’ll get this end.’

Max stood and
walked over to grab another large weight plate. Together, he and
Kris loaded twice the weight onto the bar, forcing it to bend
slightly.

‘Can I borrow
one of your guys to give you a spot?’ Kris asked.

Max looked
across at Peter who in turn nodded to the other member of his team.
The man obliged and silently walked across to stand at the head of
the bench, while Max lay down again.

Kris stepped
out of the way and stood to the side. ‘Go steady again,’ she said.
‘This will be tougher. Try for five and if you can, go to ten.’

A few moments
later, Max had easily pressed the barbell through five repetitions
and without a pause, followed through with another five. Replacing
the bar on the rack, he sat up and looked at Kris.

‘More?’ she
asked, squinting.

‘Double again,’
he replied.

Kris paused as
she looked him over. ‘Fine, but we’ll need another one of your
boys.’

Two minutes
later, one hundred and sixty kilos burdened the bar, which gravity
now seriously assaulted, placing a definite bow in it. Max lay on
his back underneath the bar, while another of Peter’s security team
had come inside to spot with one man positioned at each end of the
weighted load.

‘The bar’s at
max load,’ Kris said, ‘and I want you blokes on each end to keep
your hands on it at all times. Max is going to have some trouble
with this, so stay focused.’

The two men
said nothing and instead braced their feet a little wider apart,
their hands placed on the ends of the bar.

‘Max, I want
you to try one lift,’ Kris continued. ‘Down and up is fine. These
guys will help you all the way. Okay?’

‘Yeah,’ Max
said as he gripped the bar again. ‘Sure thing.’

Max took a deep
breath, focused on the bar and pushed up. The two guards’ hands
stayed loosely held on each end. Max paused at the top and then
slowly lowered the bar. Smoothly he controlled it all the way down
to his chest and then just as smoothly, pushed it all the way back
up.

‘Good work,
Max,’ Kris said. ‘Now put it back on the rack.’

Max held the
bar raised in the air for another moment and then slowly lowered it
back down to his chest.

‘Alright, Max.
Push it up and rack it,’ Kris repeated a little firmer.

Max smoothly
pushed the bar back up all the way to the top and then after
another pause, lowered it down again. Kris opened her mouth to
speak, but held her tongue as Max pushed the bar up again a little
faster. Kris then watched Max pump out another seven repetitions
without halting.

At the end, Max
replaced the bar on the rack and sat up. Turning to Kris he found
her frowning with crossed arms and beaded eyes. Max ignored the
look and asked, ‘Got a bigger bar?’

Elsa’s smile
widened. The two security guards exchanged glances. Kris didn’t
budge.

‘Off the
bench,’ she finally said. ‘Let’s go rowing.’

Five minutes
later, Max was standing in the middle of the free weights area, the
bench press bar on the floor in front of him and forty kilos
slapped on each end.

‘Now, just like
I showed you,’ Kris said as she stepped up beside Max. ‘Feet hip
width apart. Knees slightly bent and your torso bent over at the
hips till your back is about thirty degrees angled up from the
plane of the floor. Make sure your back is arched up as well.
Shoulders high and butt stuck out the back. You lose that form,
your lower back is going to hate you for a long time.’

Max mimicked
Kris’ bent over stance. Kris continued.

‘Now grab the
bar with an overhand grip, just wider than shoulder width,’ she
said. ‘Pull the bar smoothly up, no jerking, till it hits your gut.
Make sure you squeeze your shoulder blades together as you lift.
Don’t try to just use your arms because you’ll fail and probably
pop a bicep along the way. At the top, hold the bar and squeeze
your shoulder blades as much as you can for a full second and then
slowly lower it down again. Do ten if you can. If you can’t, just
lift it as many times as you can. Make sure you keep that back
arched and your butt out. Okay?’

‘Got it,’ Max
replied, reaching down to grip the bar as instructed.

‘Right. Take it
slow,’ Kris said, stepping out of the way.

With his grip
on the bar, Max looked up in the full length mirror to confirm his
form. Staring himself down, he pulled the bar off the ground.
Fifteen seconds later he had completed ten smooth repetitions with
no falter. Placing the bar back on the ground, he straightened and
looked in the mirror at Kris who was already returning the
look.

‘Let me guess?’
she asked. ‘Double?’

Max nodded.
Kris flicked a glance at Elsa who shrugged in reply. Kris then
turned and walked over to grab another heavy weight plate, her
frown deepening.

Thirty minutes
later and now on the squat rack, Max eased the bar back onto the
pegs and off his shoulders. Ducking out from underneath the bar, he
looked sideways at Kris.

‘What’s next?’
he asked.

Kris just
looked at him, her frown now permanently ingrained. Silence settled
over them, its strength as potent as any drug. Kris switched her
look across to Elsa who shifted uncomfortably on the bench on which
she was sitting, but remained quiet.

‘There’s
nothing left to lift,’ Kris finally said. ‘I’ve made you work every
muscle group across every inch of your body and maxxed the weights
and machines out at the same time. You’ve pulled and pushed
yourself around the gym and lifted more than I’ve seen most grown
men do and I’ve seen some seriously big men and on top of that, I
can’t even see a drop of sweat on you. Hell, you just squatted two
hundred kilos like the bar was empty. I...I don’t know what
to...’

Kris trailed
off shaking her head. She looked askew at the ground, her frown now
verging on worry. Elsa stood up and walked over to Max and they
silently looked at each other. Max then flicked a glance up to
Peter, who was looking right back at him, his face like stone, his
eyes hard and piercing. Max also glanced at the other two security
guards in the room and they too were looking at him. Elsa had also
noticed that the spotlight had centred squarely on her husband. She
leaned in.

‘I think you
might have just scared everyone,’ she whispered.

Kris’ eyes
snapped up at hearing the whispering. ‘Clear some space,’ she
quipped. ‘Time for some cardio.’

Max and Elsa
glanced at each other again and then watched Kris start to drag a
bench off to the side of the free weights area. Max stepped in and
helped out by pulling two more benches clear to make a space in the
centre of the mat in front of the mirror. Elsa stepped back to
stand by one of the benches. Sneaking a peek up, she found Peter
and his two comrades no longer looking at Max. That at least made
her feel a little more relaxed.

Kris turned to
Max and said, ‘So, we just established you can lift pretty good,
but that’s only half the story. If you really are fit, you can do
more than just pump iron. Let’s check out your cardio. Cool?’

‘Cool,’ Max
replied.

‘Right, you
should be warm after all those weights, so I think we can crack
straight into a tabata. Do you know what that is?’

‘Yep,’ Max
said. ‘Elsa whinges about them all the time and that you make her
do too many, but just to check, it’s twenty seconds flat out for
the first exercise then ten seconds rest and then twenty seconds
flat out for the second exercise and repeat three more times. All
up that’s four minutes right?’

‘That’s right
and
flat out
are the key words. We need one hundred percent.
Don’t leave anything out. We’re going to check your heart rate at
the end and I want at least a hundred and forty beats per second or
else it means you’re not trying hard enough. We’ll mix it up with
burpees as the first exercise and uneven push ups for the second.
You okay with what those are?’

‘Burpees I
know, but what’s an uneven push up?’ Max asked.

Kris turned to
the rack behind her and lifted off a bright red medicine ball. She
then threw it at Max who caught it.

‘Normal push
up,’ Kris started, ‘but with one hand on the ball. When you come
back up to the top, roll the ball across and put it underneath your
other hand and do another push up. Repeat, repeat, repeat. Fast as
you can. okay?’

‘Okay.’

‘Good. We’ll
start in ten seconds. Burpees first.’

Max nodded and
dropped the medicine ball down next to his feet, waiting silently
for Kris to kick him off. In the extended pause, Kris looked Max up
and down. The man was pumped. She had seen lots of ultra fit men in
her time and Max was in that club, but there was something else
about him. Sure he was strong. Crazy strong, but it was the way he
moved. Smooth and balanced, but there was something else. Purpose.
Everything he did had a purpose and everything he did, he finished.
Without realising it, Kris was as tense as a gazelle on the open
plains, her nerves on the edge.

‘Go,’ she
barked and in a blur, Max dropped to the floor to start his
burpees.

Four minutes
later it was done. Max had finally cracked a sweat, but only just.
It was more a slight glisten if you caught him at the right angle
beneath the lights. His breathing laboured slightly as he held his
fingers to his throat, checking his own pulse. Kris watched as her
stopwatch clicked up to fifteen seconds.

‘Stop,’ she
said. ‘What’d you get?’

‘Eighteen,’ Max
said, his breathing now back at normal levels.

Kris slowly
raised her gaze to meet his.

‘What?’ Max
asked.

‘Eighteen?
You’re sure?’ she asked dead pan.

‘Eighteen, bang
on,’ Max replied.

‘Let’s do
another one,’ Kris said hurriedly, stepping over and kicking the
medicine ball out of the way, ‘but burpees only this time and
instead of ten seconds rest standing up, stay down in the push up
position.’

‘Okay,’ Max
replied. ‘You want me to start on the ground?’

‘Yep.’

Max lowered
himself down and pushed himself up into a push up position on his
hands and toes. ‘Say when,’ he said.

‘When,’ Kris
shot back.

Just over four
intense minutes later, Max stood checking his own pulse again,
while Kris monitored her stop watch.

‘Stop,’ Kris
said.

‘Twenty,’ Max
followed up with.

Kris froze. Max
and Elsa looked at each other. Kris then turned and with her hands
on her hips, walked a few paces away from them. Elsa looked over at
Peter who was again fixed on Max. Things were definitely
uncomfortable now.

‘What’s wrong,
Kris?’ Elsa asked.

Kris stopped
walking and slowly shook her head, her back still turned.

‘What is it?’
Elsa pushed.

Kris spun and
looked at her, hard.

‘Your husband
just did back to back tabatas and through his second one, did a
steady burpee every two seconds every cycle, no problem. That’s not
world record pace, but it’s pretty damn good.’

‘That’s great
isn’t it?’ Elsa asked brightly.

‘Yeah, it is,’
Kris answered, ‘but his heart rate hasn’t even broken seventy-five
beats a minute and that’s a resting heart rate for most
blokes.’

‘Like he said,
he’s pretty fit,’ Elsa added.

‘That’s not
pretty fit, Elsa,’ Kris rifled back, shaking her head emphatically.
‘That’s
insanely
fit. He just ripped his way through two
breakneck tabatas without cracking a decent sweat on top of making
a mockery of every weights exercise I can think of and
demonstrating if he really tried, he’d stand a damn good chance of
nudging every power lifting record in the book. That’s not normal.
It’s far from normal and so, it leaves me with only one question to
ask and I need a straight answer here. Absolute truth.’