Today was abysmal. I attempted to do ME on the new bench for the first time. Its locks are set too low, so one either has to pin press the barbell to get it set up, or drag it off and let it drop down as it is, at that height. The problem with the former is obvious. I thought I could get away with the latter, but going up was incredibly slow. Cutting the down portion essentially negates any role the stretch reflex plays in the eccentric/concentric transfer, so performance suffers (interestingly, this may prove to be a good thing for DE).
This, if I may be so crass, pissed the fuck out of me. I decided to move everything to the off-limits room that's filled with construction equipment so I could bench in the power rack, instead. Ah, my old friend. There you stand in the darkness, presiding over the rubble, neglected but ever vigilant. They are not worth the steel of your very frame. There was a dusty paper sign face down on the floor next to it. I grabbed it and read, "This machine for sale. See front desk." How shameful. How sad. I set the pins up and went back to the previous room to drag a bench over, wondering why I hadn't just done this from the start. I was at 295 on the bar and working up to doing 325x3. That didn't happen. The safety bars were set too high, so on the second rep the barbell clanged sharply against the lock, which threw me off balance and made me fail. At about that time, I noticed it was nearing closing time, so I just left it at that.
It's worth the consideration of actually taking up their offer and buying it. I'm confident it would fit under my patio if I axed the punching bag. Then, I could use the money that was going to this pathetic place for a boxing gym. Plus, there are a few remaining iron plates that I snuck out before renovations started and they replaced everything with the pussy rubber ones. They probably don't want those, so maybe I could get a deal on some 45s and a bar. I'm liking this idea - a lot.