I did 576 push-ups in one day and this is where it hurts.
Editor’s Note: This article was written for the mere sake of writing. For every friend who told me to blog and every aunt who asked me if I’m still writing, here you are. This piece, this is not a great piece. But it’s the first of — I hope — many to come. It greased the wheels and got my writing cranks and gears and other automobile stuff I don’t understand, moving again. Plus, Daniel Scali was a generous interviewee. So please enjoy. This article may not stay here forever.
When I told Guinness World Record holder Daniel Scali of my challenge, he said: [Australian accent] “What are ya aiming for? We need a goal.”
Scali, a mechanic out of Adelaide, Australia had the insane goal to break the Guinness World Record for most push-ups in an hour. And he succeeded by pushing through 3,182 of ‘em.
IN AN HOUR.
Me, I’m taking 24 hours. I mention the GWR for push-ups in a day was 46,000* and I had my sights on…slightly less.
“How ‘bout we go for 460?” said Scali.
Sweet. I get a whole day to do what he did in less than 9 minutes!
6:45 am. I’m feeling completely rested and knock out a 12–12–6.
This was a strategy I stole from Scali. Over the course of his hour, he would attack for 12 seconds, rest for 6 seconds, then reset repeatedly for his GWR hour.
So I chose 12 push-ups, rest. Twelve more, rest. Then a final 6.
And it works! I feel good. So good, in fact, I decide that, instead of every hour, I’ll do 30 every half hour. This would take me to nearly 1000 push-ups for the day!
“Don’t burn yourself out,” Scali said. “Start small. And build yourself up. As basic as that sounds, it works.”
That advice echoes through my mind as I tack on another 30. But I’m walking strong and confident, so every half hour it is. After all, I really just wanted to know my number. And to find out if I’d be completely dead the next day.
8:45 am. I’m already starting to regret it. My triceps feel it first, then my shoulders.
Also, every 30 minutes is tough. As soon as I get done with 30, there’s always another 30 lurking around the corner. My phone beeps at me constantly.
Thankfully I’m unemployed, so I can do this.
10:15 am. The arms feel it, no matter what. So I shift them out, hoping to emphasize the chest and shoulders as much as possible.
Now, don’t think for a second I’m doing those girl push-ups with my knees on the ground. Or push-ups like that chubby kid in gym class who oddly sticks his butt up way too high.
No, I’m going fully down, nearly touching the ground, then back up.
10:45 am. Yeah, it’s definitely more mental than physical at this point. But, I do 12, then walk to the corner of the street. 12 more, walk back, final 6. This simple routine is crucial.
12:45 pm. Another 30. I feel like my arms are shouting: “YO, BUT YOU SAID WE COULD REST THOUGH.”
1:15 pm. Yeah, the triceps are dead. Is that discomfort in the elbows?…
1:45 pm. Yep, definitely a sore right elbow. I keep tweaking my form and slowing down, but I still feel a sharp pain.
I do my 30 and then some quick googling.
According to the first thing that popped up, I’m not using proper form. Or its due to overuse. Or both…
I try tucking my elbows closer to my body, putting more emphasis on my whiny triceps.
2:15 pm. I stop at 7. The elbow pain is worse.
I do another 7, then another 7. The loss in motivation is sudden. I’m frustrated. And then I remember I have a softball game tonight.
I take a second and exhale. I re-focus my technique. It’s basically a plank, I tell myself. Hands about chest high, then up and down.
7–2–7 and it’s over.
2:45 pm comes way too fast. I hate this. My elbow is pissing me off.
Listen, I’m not someone who watches inspirational movies. I’d rather see Michael Jordan dominate people in ‘The Last Dance’ or learn actual scientific tips to succeed. But at this point, I’m taking everything I have.
After reading about Scali and talking to him, it seemed so easy. I hear the word ‘pain’ and I can’t wait to overcome it. Just push through it. Embrace it.
But when I feel it? Nope.
Scali has CRPS (complex regional pain syndrome). It’s basically a condition where your body will, at times, ache and scream in pain to an extent that’s way out of proportion to the actual physical impact.
Imagine jumping in the ocean and your arm shrieks in pain like it’s fractured.
“I had a shocking childhood growing up with CRPS. From being in hospitals for nights at a time, screaming in pain to dealing with needles to process pain; just not knowing how to deal with it. And now, I’m able to deal with concrete pain. Using that journey that I went through, as fuel for me, is satisfying.” **
So I ice the elbow. I break it down to 10–10–10 and survive.
3:15 pm. 10–10–7–3.
My form feels all over the place. I’m frustrated. It’s easiest just to power through what I can, then break. Thinking about it just makes it worse.
3:45 pm. “LEAVE ME ALONE!” I want to shout at my phone’s stupid, incessant reminders.
5–5–5–5–5–5.
It’s not the worst pain, but I feel it’s a smack of pain right on the bone for every single pushup. I should stop. My ice packs are melting fast. But I want 1000! I want that Daniel Scali-level of pushing past the pain, coping with it and still able to meet my goal. I want that pride! That confidence! That Michael Jordan-level of intensity and attack at whatever opponent shows up. That sense that no matter what the obstacle, I can dig down a little deeper, a little hungrier and do what I’ve never done.
4:15 pm.
F*** this, my elbow hurts.
And I walk off into the sunset.
Results:
I added one more before bed for a total of 576.
The next day, the pain in order:
- Right elbow
- Shoulders
- Arms
- Chest
- Lats (had no idea I was even using them)
I honestly felt like I could do push-ups the next day if I had to (minus my tennis elbow). While the overall soreness was gone in about 48 hours, my elbow still feels a little soft a week later.
*46,001 by Charles Servizio, a retired teacher, in 1993.
**My best attempt at translating his Australian accent. I’m pretty sure that’s what he said; apologies, if I misheard.
