This morning at the gym, I saw something that causes me to believe that
the old school, hardcore mentality is alive and kicking among our
youth. I was doing floor chest presses today and one of the local high
schoolers who works out at my gym wanted to work in with me. He's a
good size kid and pretty strong, so feeling charitable, I let him work
in with me. I knew I wouldn't have to keep loading and stripping the
bar to compensate for our poundage needs.
He had just finished a set and as I lay down on the ground to do mine,
I felt something wet and warm against my arm. I sat up to check it out.
It was blood. While pushing out his last set with 315, he had ground
his elbow into the rubber flooring. A small chunk of his elbow looked
like ground beef. I told him to look at his arm as blood was freely
flowing down the back of his forearm.
I thought he was going to head for the first aid station to get a
bandage. This would mean I'd have to wait for a spotter. Naturally, the
thought of this pissed me off. When you're ready to get into the next
set, any break in the training that isn't planned fucking sucks, as we
all know.
Well, instead of heading off, this kid just mopped his other hand over
the blood, then wiped that hand onto his dingy white t-shirt. He then
turned to me and said, "Bitch, get your ass under there and push this
shit." I laughed inwardly. A minor incident, yes, but his decision to
not worry about a some blood and raw elbow flesh so that I could keep
focused and get through my next set without interruption warmed my
heart. This kid had some balls.
As I finished my set, this kid didn't miss a beat. He looked back at
his arm, which was still bleeding, squatted down, wiped his forearm on
his pants, and flopped onto his back for his next set. That, my
friends, is hardcore intensity and focus. Too many guys today are too
worried about how they look and how others perceive them while in the
gym. To these pretty boys, I say focus on the "now" and just move the
weight. What's a little blood? I say, what's a little glory?
This incident, however small, made me recall my early days of training
when I was younger... Memories of lifting with my training partner Tim
came flooding back. I'll get to those stories later. But today, as I
stand here by the drinking fountain getting ready to leave, my respect
for this kid grew. This kid was going to do something with his life.
