The Book I Was Going to Review

My friend Cameron and I recently began the Hundred Push-Up Challenge (a 6-week program that gradually increases your push-up max to one hundred consecutive p-u's) so I thought it would be interesting to read more about push-ups. Surprisingly, there is actually a book about push-ups, and sadly, I spent almost $20 and three hours on it.

When I began writing this blog, my intent was to review books that I recommend for other people, you know to enrich the lives of all who know me, blah blah blah. It was not my plan to read and review books that suck eggs.


However, after having wasted my time and money on this book, I think it's worth writing about just to clarify my criteria for recommendations: that is, what makes a book so good you want to cradle it in your arms everywhere you go, and what makes a book so bad you want to scoop it and chuck it like a dog turd into the yard of those neighbors who are always running their leaf blower while you're trying to take a nap?

Books Like Turds
I was intrigued by Ted Krup's book because hey! another exercise guru with something to teach me. I thought maybe his narrative would offer some suggestions about improving my push-up workouts, varying my technique, and how to maximize the effect of push-ups on my other sporting endeavors. But no. Krup's book is entirely about his personal exercise program, which consists entirely of doing push-ups: ONE THOUSAND A DAY EVERY DAY. As impressive as this, it's also ridiculous to advocate that anyone interrupt their life 10 times a day so they can do 100 push-ups. When would they have time for beer connaisseurship and dog training?

Using way more exclamation points than are necessary, Krup touts the benefits of push-ups, including awesome arms and shoulders, a tighter core, efficiency and affordability, weight management, and low risk of injury. He also claims they are "fun" and "addictive." Um, ok. But even though he creates an enthusiastic and positive case for his personal workout, he fails to acknowledge that most people don't follow this same regimen because a) they're not crazy and b) most of us actually enjoy, say, working out with friends, competing in races, and doing exercises that don't require us to lay on the floor with our faces six inches from whatever the dog brought in on her feet (shown here totally owning my reading chair).

Krup provides personalization--his own story--but doesn't offer any other examples of people who've attempted and enjoyed his program. Anecdotes connect readers to content, provide motivation, and help them see thewriter as a likeable person who is not just totally obsessed with his own wonderfulness. Even though I am convinced that Krup is a fit individual, and that this program enriches his life, and that push-ups are an awesome work out, he fails to provide any solid research or documentation, and the result is that he comes across as unpolished, under-informed, and self-obsessed. There. I got that off my chest. I'm going back to the other book I was reading, the one that doesn't suck.