Took some measurements the other morning, stone cold and fresh out of bed.
Biceps: 16 3/4"
Waist: 36 1/2"
My very wide shoulders are actually causing a problem riding my Harley Sportster, since my upper arms block the inner 1/3 of my side mirrors. I have to remember to tuck my elbows in so I can see behind me decently. That, or find a way to move my mirrors out wider.
FINALLY got back to some real powerlifting lifts just this past week, for the first time in 2 years. This will sound pathetic, but here's what I did (warm up was 20 minutes cardio on 7.5% treadmill or elliptical, and after lifting I do 20 minutes of balls-to-the-wall firefighter circuit training, 5 circuits with 30 secs rest in between):
Squat: 45 x 12, 55 x 10, 55 x 10
Bench: 12.5 DB's x 16, 45 x 12, 65 x 10, 75 x 10, 85 x 8.
Well, it's a start. I was taking it VERY easy, since as we all know, break-in soreness is a complete and utter bear.
Please feel free to ask me questions--some of my knowledge might be dated (heck, MOST of it is dated), but I've been lifting for 34 years and I love to help people. In my prime, I worked out in Pasadena, Texas, with guys who routinely benched 500-700 back in 1980 and squatted around 1,000. One of them was Anthony Clark, who I saw bench a negative on 750, with the bar bending. He passed away from complications of gear overuse (his ego simply wouldn't let him EVER cycle off.) So now I'm an incredibly tough room and very hard to impress. I see guys benching 405 and I kinda just shrug.
Also lifted with Mark Henry.
One of my good friends was a Houston Firefighter (and an incredibly handsome man!), but he got busted for selling gear and lost his job. Which I didn't think he should have, because a guy who benches 500 is a DAMNED good firefighter. And he told some hellaciously good stories...
One time they were working a fire on an icy roof of a 3-story building during a rare ice storm in Houston. His buddy started sliding off the roof. My friend reached over with one hand, grabbed the guy's belt, and WHOOOMPED his ass back up onto the roof. Gear probably saved the other guy's LIFE!
Another time, though, things didn't go as well. They were up on top of an open-top oil refinery tank, and the whole tank was ON FIRE and they were trying to put it out, when one of the guys fell into the burning tank of petrochemicals. And my friends couldn't reach him in time, and had to watch...very sad.
I used to go visit them to flirt with the guys and shoot the bull at their extremely cool firehouse, which was one inside the NASA compound at Mission Control in Clear Lake, outside of Houston. I used to ask what stuff was for, and I still remember one of them pointing to a large tank outside and saying, "See that, Tam? That's rocket fuel. That's why we have to have all this exotic suppressive gear." They didn't get many calls, praise God, and no really bad ones while I was visiting.
Another friend was Lindy Champion, a top bodybuilder. She was married to a big, burly powerlifter named Larry Mystric and they had an adorable 2-year-old girl. Sadly, Lindy was killed in a skydiving accident, I think her chute failed to open.