Rug Burn Junky on 16/1/2008 at 19:44
Quote Posted by Scots Taffer
Was hoping for a list of what you did and before/after shots. :(
Nobody but me gets to see the before, and there's no such thing as "after" only "most recent" cuz I ain't done yet. I'll think about putting together something descriptive though.
Quote Posted by Starrfall
Girls who do ten minutes of curls with five pound weights.
I ALREADY YELLED AT HER FOR SITTING ON THE BENCH, STOP PICKING ON HER CUZ SHE'S KINDA CUTE.
Quote Posted by Ko0K
So what do you do? You quietly pick up your things and move over, then come home to blog about it. Heh heh...
Ex-fucking-scuse me? Knowing what you know about me, do you seriously think that's my reaction? That I would have any qualms about standing up for myself because I'm too timid? As soon as I realized he was about to walk away with my bench (the one free floating bench used for the power rack, and 2 Smith machines) I finished my rep, caught my breath, and politely told him that I was still using it. He apologized and scurried away. Simple as that.
Quote Posted by N'Al
You shittin' me? Someone actually did that at your gym?
Color me shocked, as I had always heard of things like that, but didn't believe it 'til I saw it myself. When I first walked past him to get water I assumed he was just in between sets, or waiting for the squash courts, but 10 minutes later when I was working out right next to him, he was still sitting there and then just got up and went to the locker room. :nono:
Quote Posted by Thief13x
Now considering i'm in terrible shape at the moment and going to the gym tonight at 9:30 with a buddy, I'm probably going to be lumped into your group of "seasonals" but the truth is that I havn't made any commitment because I know I can't keep it. I just do my best and try to stick with it for as long as possible...or until the pizza is delivered....
Originally Posted by HierI just started in December. Is that early enough to avoid the wrath of the experienced regulars?
Has nothing to do with what shape you're in, or when you start (really). It has to do with how much effort you put in when you're there, how dedicated you are to keep coming, and whether you can follow basic rules of etiquette. It's just that the New Year's folks are more likely to lack all three.
I don't pass judgment on anybody, not really. I put my head down, earplugs in and go about my business. But when witnessing so many of these stupid actions at once, you do need to vent. I would love, however, for any one of these people to prove me wrong, and to come back in August to see that they've made even more kick-ass progress than I have. I just won't bet on it.
Quote Posted by Shayde
I never understood the attraction of gym. Why not go do something entertaining like rock climbing, horseriding, hiking or boxing?
Instead you choose to spend hours in a sterile environment, in solitary, repetitive activity. :confused:
I rollerblade and ski, and play in a weekly football league, but I lift so that I'll be better at each of them. There's really nothing more effective at getting your body to perform better than lifting weights. Bar none. Having been fairly athletic all through growing up, even when I was carrying a few extra pounds, it really bothered me to realize that I couldn't kid myself any longer, and that I had totally lost that. I needed to do everything I could to recapture that, but quite simply that was the most efficient way.
But it's more than that, really. It's meditative. I spend enough time being social, being at the beck and call of my phone or blackberry. When I'm working out, that all fades away, and the only thing that exists for me is that next rep. When I'm done, and totally drained, it feels good, if only because I've pushed myself. The way most people work out is barely functional. Lift a weight ten times that you know you can lift 20? you're not accomplishing anything. But when you have 250 lbs on your back, and you squat down not knowing whether or not you'll be able to get back up, and fight through it? When you lock out at the top it's just as enjoyable as any ski run I've ever been on.
I don't think I can explain it nearly as well as Henry Rollins does (which I'm sure a bunch of you have read already), which I has always motivated me, and in the last year or so, I've come to identify with even more aspects of it.
[INDENT] [indent]
Quote:
IRON, from Details Magazine
By Henry Rollins
I believe that the definition of definition is reinvention. To not be like your parents. To not be like your friends. To be yourself.
Completely.
When I was young I had no sense of myself. All I was, was a product of all the fear and humiliation I suffered. Fear of my parents. The humiliation of teachers calling me “garbage can” and telling me I'd be mowing lawns for a living. And the very real terror of my fellow students. I was threatened and beaten up for the color of my skin and my size. I was skinny and clumsy, and when others would tease me I didn't run home crying, wondering why. I knew all too well. I was there to be antagonized. In sports I was laughed at. A spaz. I was pretty good at boxing but only because the rage that filled my every waking moment made me wild and unpredictable. I fought with some strange fury. The other boys thought I was crazy.
I hated myself all the time. As stupid at it seems now, I wanted to talk like them, dress like them, carry myself with the ease of knowing that I wasn't going to get pounded in the hallway between classes. Years passed and I learned to keep it all inside. I only talked to a few boys in my grade. Other losers. Some of them are to this day the greatest people I have ever known. Hang out with a guy who has had his head flushed down a toilet a few times, treat him with respect, and you'll find a faithful friend forever. But even with friends, school sucked. Teachers gave me a hard time. I didn't think much of them either.
Then came Mr. Pepperman, my advisor. He was a powerfully built Vietnam veteran, and he was scary. No one ever talked out of turn in his class. Once one kid did and Mr. P. lifted him off the ground and pinned him to the blackboard. Mr. P. could see that I was in bad shape, and one Friday in October he asked me if I had ever worked out with weights. I told him no. He told me that I was going to take some of the money that I had saved and buy a hundred-pound set of weights at Sears. As I left his office, I started to think of things I would say to him on Monday when he asked about the weights that I was not going to buy. Still, it made me feel special. My father never really got that close to caring. On Saturday I bought the weights, but I couldn't even drag them to my mom's car. An attendant laughed at me as he put them on a dolly.
Monday came and I was called into Mr. P.'s office after school. He said that he was going to show me how to work out. He was going to put me on a program and start hitting me in the solar plexus in the hallway when I wasn't looking. When I could take the punch we would know that we were getting somewhere. At no time was I to look at myself in the mirror or tell anyone at school what I was doing. In the gym he showed me ten basic exercises. I paid more attention than I ever did in any of my classes. I didn't want to blow it. I went home that night and started right in.
Weeks passed, and every once in a while Mr. P. would give me a shot and drop me in the hallway, sending my books flying. The other students didn't know what to think. More weeks passed, and I was steadily adding new weights to the bar. I could sense the power inside my body growing. I could feel it.
Right before Christmas break I was walking to class, and from out of nowhere Mr. Pepperman appeared and gave me a shot in the chest. I laughed and kept going. He said I could look at myself now. I got home and ran to the bathroom and pulled off my shirt. I saw a body, not just the shell that housed my stomach and my heart. My biceps bulged. My chest had definition. I felt strong. It was the first time I can remember having a sense of myself. I had done something and no one could ever take it away. You couldn't say shit to me.
It took me years to fully appreciate the value of the lessons I have learned from the Iron. I used to think that it was my adversary, that I was trying to lift that which does not want to be lifted. I was wrong. When the Iron doesn't want to come off the mat, it's the kindest thing it can do for you. If it flew up and went through the ceiling, it wouldn't teach you anything. That's the way the Iron talks to you. It tells you that the material you work with is that which you will come to resemble. That which you work against will always work against you.
It wasn't until my late twenties that I learned that by working out I had given myself a great gift. I learned that nothing good comes without work and a certain amount of pain. When I finish a set that leaves me shaking, I know more about myself. When something gets bad, I know it can't be as bad as that workout.
I used to fight the pain, but recently this became clear to me: pain is not my enemy; it is my call to greatness. But when dealing with the Iron, one must be careful to interpret the pain correctly. Most injuries involving the Iron come from ego. I once spent a few weeks lifting weight that my body wasn't ready for and spent a few months not picking up anything heavier than a fork. Try to lift what you're not prepared to and the Iron will teach you a little lesson in restraint and self-control.
I have never met a truly strong person who didn't have self-respect. I think a lot of inwardly and outwardly directed contempt passes itself off as self-respect: the idea of raising yourself by stepping on someone's shoulders instead of doing it yourself. When I see guys working out for cosmetic reasons, I see vanity exposing them in the worst way, as cartoon characters, billboards for imbalance and insecurity. Strength reveals itself through character. It is the difference between bouncers who get off strong-arming people and Mr. Pepperman.
Muscle mass does not always equal strength. Strength is kindness and sensitivity. Strength is understanding that your power is both physical and emotional. That it comes from the body and the mind. And the heart.
Yukio Mishima said that he could not entertain the idea of romance if he was not strong. Romance is such a strong and overwhelming passion, a weakened body cannot sustain it for long. I have some of my most romantic thoughts when I am with the Iron. Once I was in love with a woman. I thought about her the most when the pain from a workout was racing through my body.
Everything in me wanted her. So much so that sex was only a fraction of my total desire. It was the single most intense love I have ever felt, but she lived far away and I didn't see her very often. Working out was a healthy way of dealing with the loneliness. To this day, when I work out I usually listen to ballads.
I prefer to work out alone. It enables me to concentrate on the lessons that the Iron has for me. Learning about what you're made of is always time well spent, and I have found no better teacher. The Iron had taught me how to live. Life is capable of driving you out of your mind. The way it all comes down these days, it's some kind of miracle if you're not insane. People have become separated from their bodies. They are no longer whole.
I see them move from their offices to their cars and on to their suburban homes. They stress out constantly, they lose sleep, they eat badly. And they behave badly. Their egos run wild; they become motivated by that which will eventually give them a massive stroke. They need the Iron Mind.
Through the years, I have combined meditation, action, and the Iron into a single strength. I believe that when the body is strong, the mind thinks strong thoughts. Time spent away from the Iron makes my mind degenerate. I wallow in a thick depression. My body shuts down my mind.
The Iron is the best antidepressant I have ever found. There is no better way to fight weakness than with strength. Once the mind and body have been awakened to their true potential, it's impossible to turn back.
The Iron never lies to you. You can walk outside and listen to all kinds of talk, get told that you're a god or a total bastard. The Iron will always kick you the real deal. The Iron is the great reference point, the all-knowing perspective giver. Always there like a beacon in the pitch black. I have found the Iron to be my greatest friend. It never freaks out on me, never runs. Friends may come and go. But two hundred pounds is always two hundred pounds.[/indent][/INDENT]
