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“It all begins with a simple push--a swift kick in the ass and we’re
out on our own, kicking and screaming. But it doesn’t stop there.
Later, we’ll be pushed around, pushed down--with fists and with
words... You won’t amount to much. You’re wasting your time. Don’t be
different--just fit in. Yeah, the world is gonna tell us who we ought
to be, never stopping to ask who we actually are. Who are we?”
“We are the misfits and the dreamers. Though I’m still 4 weeks out, for
the past 12, I’ve been pushing too. Pushing myself to the limit.
Pushing off complacency. Pushing through hurdles, smashing through
walls. Pushing back at all those in my life who said I’d fail. Cuz when
push comes to shove, you gotta listen to your own voice... And if
anyone tells you different, you tell him to shove it up his ass.” |
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Push.
Pull... Two fundamental forces in nature--as basic as it gets...
Physics as a metaphor for life and this fucking sport we call
bodybuilding. All basic movements can be broken down to "push" and
"pull". Love dumbbell rows, but I can't expect to build a physique with
only pull movements. Life's the same fellas... You can't have
attraction without repelling--the two go hand in hand. Take my girl for
instance. Instant
chemistry the moment I met her. I know she was somethng special and I
do my best to treat her like the lady she is. Now take Big Red on the
other hand. Yeah, I call him that cuz of the shock of red on his head
and this red goatee. Anyway, this is the dude who's been going out of
his way to give
me shit in the gym... Another misguided fool. But things between us are
cool now. When the shit hits the fan, you gotta be willing to step up
and be a better man. See, attraction is the easy part--it's swimming
downstream, it's the path of least resistance. But resistance--that's
the fucking meat and potatotes of our sport... That's what
builds our physiques. At the same time, going against the grain,
challenging yourself, accomodating those who don't share your
perspective... Well brothers, that kind of resistance builds
character... And it's no less important.
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A
buddy of mine is into mathematics. He’s a math teacher and he sees the
world around him in terms of numbers. Ain’t nothing wrong with that, I
say. Couple of times, he’s seen me lift... Shit, the gym is a classroom
of a different sort. Anyway, he doesn’t know shit about form or how to
do a hack squat. He talks in formulas, like F=ma. Now in this world, I
don’t see things in terms of mass or acceleration--but fellas,
I know something about force. I know how a cold, knurled bar
feels in my fucking hands. When I'm in the middle of a set, I'm not
thinking about gravity, but I can feel what it's doing, the resistance
pushing down on me. Shit, that’s the kind of resistance I’m
interested in. That's what being in here is all about. See, the gym is
a primal place.
It’s where you let your instincts take over. It’s also the place where
some lifters are searching for an identity, their place in the pecking
order. Who’s the alpha? Who the fuck cares? This dude Big Red thinks
he is... Well the other day, he’s benching with his partner… Can’t
remember
his name, Chops, or some shit like that cuz of his sideburns. Now the
two of ‘em are putting up some strong numbers. The whole time, he’s
looking over at me as if to say, “Hey, betcha can't do this.” Like I
fucking care. In the middle of my set, I suddenly hear this loud
screech, kinda
like when someone steps on a cat’s tail. I’ve heard that sound before,
so
I dumped the weight and turned around to see Big Red under 5 plates,
face pale as ash. The bar is sitting square on his chest and his
partner's frantically trying to get it off. In a couple steps, I’m over
there and help Big Red
re-rack the weight. That was the other day... Today, when I entered the
gym, Big Red didn't say a word to me. In his silence, he said
everything he had to. Brothers, in life you
will meet
resistance. Know when to fight against it and know when to let
it slip around
you, like the lone rock in the middle of a stream.
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Shit,
a lot of things in life rub me the wrong way. Did I just say "life"?
Who
am I kidding?
Sometimes, the shit that goes on in the gym drives me to the fucking
edge--like that whole business with Big Red. Needless friction. Add
dieting to the mix, and I’m a keg of dynamite waiting to explode... And
it's only gonna get worse as I start experimenting with water
manipulation. Shit, these
days, I'm feeling worn down. I just want to be left alone... I want to
tell everyone to fuck off, go
away. Sometimes, it takes every last fucking ounce of discipline to
keep everything together... But you know what? It's easy to take the
low road. It's easy to say, "Fuck it", and mix it up with whomever gets
in your way. But it takes a different breed to take the high road, to
have the discipline--in the gym and outside of it--to rise above the
shit so many are mired in. Shit, just yesterday Big Red walked up to
me, asked me for a spot--was polite about it and all. I was more than happy to lend a helping hand. That single
moment reminded me that when two things rub together, the results
aren't
always bad. After all, to create a spark, to create a fucking fire,
you need a little friction.
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