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“So yesterday I’m in the supermarket picking up a couple things &
as I check out, the cashier hands me my change. I dump ‘em into my
pocket. We do a lot of things without thinking twice and everywhere,
the change starts accumulating--in cars, coat pockets, wherever. Why
worry about a couple coins--they’re not worth much, right? Wrong.
Listen up brothers... All that change’ll add up to hundreds. It may not
happen overnight, but it will eventually. You just gotta have the
patience to see the big picture. In the gym, it’s like time unfolds in
front of me. After all, time is all I do have... Time to do things
right, time to take my time. In here, I won’t shortchange myself by
cuttin’ corners--can’t afford to with three weeks to go. In here, the
change I’m making comes in denominations of 45s... And with every
weighted pullup, every last set, my change jar is slowly fillin’ up.” |
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Charge...
As in, "Charge it." As in, "Cash or charge?"
How many times have I heard that? Doesn’t matter who I'm with or where
I am—in the
electronics store, the
department store, even the fucking supermarket. Even my girl loves
ringing up purchases using plastic for all kinds of shit--including a
gallon of milk. Yeah, a fucking gallon of milk... Plastic. Whatever
happened to
good
'ol paper? Cold hard cash? Maybe I'm old fashioned, but lemme tell you,
cash is all business. With cash, you know where you stand--no worries
about whether you hit your credit limit. No questions asked. See, in
here
you don't get a fucking line of credit extended to you from the Bank of
Bodybuilding. You don't get to miss a payment... You don't get to 30
days to pay off your debt... You don't get to live on borrowed time.
Everything happens in the here and the now. And if you miss a meal or a
workout, the interest will add up to more than you can fucking afford.
So
train today. Eat today. Don't bank on tomorrow...
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Like
change in a jar, plates on a bar, excuses have a way of piling up. Excuses... Shit, you
need 'em like you need a third nut in your fucking sack. But they're
always there... "Skip that workout," you hear in your ear. The sun is
shining. The wind is warm against your back. The sky is bluer than
you've ever fucking seen. Yeah, excuses can come like that, quiet as a
whisper. But I think of excuses like toilet paper. See, at the very
moment you need it, seems like nothing else in the world is more
important. But once you've used it, you want nothing to do with it. So
flush that shit down the fucking toilet brothers... Don't use an excuse
to waste your dedication. |
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Shit
brothers, we've all got different priorities. In this society that we
live in, success is usually measured by things. You become defined by
what you
buy. You are what you eat, but it's not food we're talking about...
It's about the consumption of goods. Life starts revolving around
keepin' up with the Joneses... Who’s got the
bigger house? The nicer car? Fancier clothes? As a bodybuilder, I don't
have any of that... Maybe that's why others look down on me. Big
fucking deal... But it
cuts both ways, brothers--as bodybuilders, maybe we
look down on them too, believing that they care more about
superficial things, external things rather than themselves. Know what
though? None of this matters. If someone wants to buy fancy sportscar,
so what? Not any of my business. But the gym--now that's my business,
and
truth is, I often see the same kind of shit that I see outside of it.
I'm talking about that kid who’s worried
about whethet or not he's got the right outfit... Or that kid who keeps
comparing himself to the
guy next to him. We're not talking about cars or watches, but about
stats and lifts... These are the things bodybuilders are comparing.
Instead of keepin' up with the Joneses, some
lifters are spending too much time keeping up with the Freaks. The shit
never ends... Me, I don't have time to compare notes. I don't care if
this house I've built is as nice as the one next to it. All that
matters is, what needs work and how I'm gonna fix it. And for the past
fifteen weeks, the only person I've been trying to keep up with is the
one who keeps looking back at me in the mirror, the one who won't give
me a fucking inch... Not one.
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