No gym? Solution: Car Pushes and Parking Lot Sprints
By
Hannah “The Minx” Johnson
I recently had to drive my truck up to Delaware. By the time I got there and
made my deliveries, I had to stop for the night. I can legally only drive 11
hours before a mandatory 10 hour downtime, so I had a whole evening to kill
before I could go on duty again. I delivered to an auction and there were plenty
of cars around, so I hit on the idea of car pushes coupled with parking lot
sprints. I had brought workout clothes in case I had time to train, but this was
even better than a gym.
The only problem was, it was COLD. I mean, cold as a well digger's fanny.
Like, in the thirties. So, as soon as I was done with these I had to change
clothes and get warm and dry before my sweat froze. It actually got down to
almost eight degrees at night. Seriously, the best part of my trips is coming
back down south. It's literally a 20 degree difference in the temperature.
Car Pushes/Sprints
First off, I pushed a Mitsubishi Galant, which was super easy. By the way, if
you’re going to try this at home, it'd probably be best if you had a partner
sitting in the driver's seat, steering in case anything goes wrong. The cool
thing about the auction is that there are literally hundreds of yards of empty
space in front of the car, so I can just put it in neutral, drop my head down,
get low and push with all I've got for 30 seconds. I pushed that Galant around
like it called my Momma a bad name.
Feeling good about myself, I sized up the rest of my competitors. "All right,
who wants some?" Next up was a Chevrolet Equinox, which was a bit more
challenging. I wasn't able to get it quite as far as the Galant, but I still
moved it a considerable distance.
Somewhat winded, I decided to go for broke and put my hands flat against the
bumper of a Ford Expedition (insert appropriate straining sound here).
Grrrr. It didn't even move! Are you kidding me? I deadlift over 400 pounds!
This thing should be cowering! Don't laugh - I was trying to psych myself. I got
a little lower and widened my hands out a bit, flexed my shoulders and really
gave it everything I had.
Nothing.
I straightened myself up in disbelief. Now, I have personally loaded up my
Prowler with so much weight that Matt had to help me get it started moving, and
still I pushed it. Something isn't right here. Maybe the sprints killed my
recovery? Maybe it's too cold? My inner voice chimed in: Maybe you're just a
loser? Maybe, maybe, whiny baby? That was it. I literally blew a small blood
vessel in my eye as I pushed for seven full seconds, with not a millimeter to
show for it. My hands were frozen, I was max-effort tired, and I had just bombed
out of my car-pushing attempts. I huffed my way around to the driver's side door
and shoved the gearshift up into park. As I stood there gasping for breath, my
eyes drifted downward to the floorboard. You already guessed it, didn't you?
THE PARKING BRAKE WAS ON. So yes, I popped the parking brake and pushed just
until the stupid thing rolled, just enough to quiet my inner fears that somehow
I had morphed into some puny weakling that couldn't make something roll that was
made to roll.
Long story short: I haven't been able to work out, not only because I've been on
the road, but mainly from the incredible soreness in every muscle in my body. I
would highly recommend that anyone who is super stressed-out should spend at
least seven seconds of every day pushing with all their might against an
immovable object. It'll make you forget about all those other little problems, I
guarantee it.
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