Getting off your dead ass, getting shit done. Showing up, putting up. Let's do this! You motivated yet? Yeah me neither. I would like to take some time to talk about motivation. What works for me, what doesn't, and the people who would love to sabotage you and see you fail.
I am not Mr. Motivation by any means. Hell half the time I look for ways to get out of going to the gym. Don't get me wrong, I feel terrible when I don't go. Like an utter ass. But there are days when my dead ass is just that. A. Dead. Ass. There are days I sit on the couch and flip through the channels, not paying attention to ANYTHING. What set up my 6 day hiatus last week, started with me saying to myself "I deserve a day off". Which maybe I did deserve an extra day that week. But that turned into a whole week. Wasted, burnt to the ground. Smoldering ashes where I should have gotten bigger and stronger. But what can ya do? You can dust yourself off, and push forward Nancy. That is what you do.
I can tell you honestly sometimes it is hard to maintain focus. In any sport you have set backs, or plateaus. Some weeks I move great weight, and I feel Atlas strong. Then the next week, I may lose 5 lbs off of a lift that I had TWO weeks prior. It's disheartening, it sucks, and it zaps your motivation. In those moments I remember (or at least I try to) why I am doing all this. Who it's really for. I get back inside my head, and think about the fact that even if I am not setting personal records every time I grab the bar, I am still doing more than the guy who isn't in the gym.
Which brings me to the last form of motivation drain I wanna address. People around you. Seems like everyone has an opinion, and in all those opinions, it seems like most of them are NOT going to be supportive. Of everyone that I talk to, most people maintain a moderate level of support. But there are still some who are very outspoken in their "concerns". I hear most often that I am too short. I look too small, or I don't weigh nearly enough. There have even been a couple of guys come right out and say "come on dude, you know you can't do anything like that". Women usually ask me why would I put myself through the pain, and constant soreness that is lifting and working out the way I do, citing it isn't for any REAL reason anyway. It are those voices that hurt my training the most. I'll be honest. It's hard for me to block those assholes out. They talk to me early in the day, they harp at me in my jeep on the way to the gym. They are the voices I hear when I can't pull that weight on the bar. When I miss the weight, when I hurt or am sore. But they are also the voices I hear when I set a new personal record. When I absolutely destroy a workout in the gym. They are the voices that drive me as well as hold me back.
I guess what I am getting at with this post is everyone, and I mean EVERYONE is going to have hitches in their training. No one is safe from it, no one immune. Motivation is a funny and fickle lady. She can drive you to no end. Push you as if someone was at your back cracking a whip. But when she walks out on you, she can leave you wondering what the hell to do, and feeling like you shouldn't even take another step forward in your health or in your training. Take that step anyway. There is where your character needs to, and will shine. In those moments, that is where the rubber meets the road. One of the best things I have ever heard, and has become a battle cry for me is this: I may not have the size yet, I may not have the genetics on my side, and I may not be naturally gifted in what I am doing, but son of a bitch there is not going to be anyone who out works me today, tomorrow, or any time I set foot in this gym." Out work everyone else. Keep hustling. Use those who cut you down as fuel to build yourself. Prove. Them. Wrong. Your actions and your effort will end up motivating you more. And who knows, maybe even end up motivating someone else. Oh and if you are one of those people who likes to "just be honest" (really meaning that you just wanna talk shit) thanks, you may have just given someone the necessary motivation to prove your lame ass wrong later on down the road.
It doesn't matter how slow you are running the track, you are still lapping everyone who ain't getting off of their couches!
Bending the Bar ; A sometimes humorous, but always honest journey into strength sports
Sunday, March 2, 2014
Sunday, February 16, 2014
A talk about setbacks....
Let's air this out right off the bat. I haven't been to the gym in 6 days. Yup, that is the God's honest truth. 7 months away from my first Highland Games, and I haven't been to the gym in almost a week. Three of those days were absolutely my choice. I alone made the decision to not get off my dead ass and go make myself better. I chose the path of least resistance for three days. I fully intended to swing the hammer back into the right direction however after that three day break. Then I got waylaid with the wrath of Montezuma. Some odd plague-like virus has mated with my immune system rendering it inoperable. There goes the other three days of my six day piss off. Trust me people, I am not making excuses, not by any stretch, I'm merely explaining the circumstances behind my disgusting lazy ass lack of motivation.
Honestly, what started this whole spiral was a simple plateau. A try at heavier weight on the bench, and the inability that day to push more weight. Looking back, that was the chink in the armor. It was the catalyst. It started the voices in my head that said "you can take a couple days off" and "let your body heal up a little" followed shortly by "it's not like you are progressing anyway". These thoughts were my initial undoing. Does this mean I am derailed? I certainly hope not. Does it mean I am giving up? No chance in hell.
Actually what I am about to say might surprise some of you. It might have been the best thing mentally for me to lose these six days. Because it has given me a new lease on my time. It has made me realize that I feel terrible when I don't go to the gym. I feel like I am letting not only myself, but so many other people down by not practicing, by not working out, by not training in some way shape or form. I just can't let that happen. So I write this today, as my little kick in the arse to get motivated again, to get back on the wagon. My six day break has been more than long enough. Tomorrow it's back to the grind, back to building, and back to chasing this goal. No setback is gonna stop this train!
Honestly, what started this whole spiral was a simple plateau. A try at heavier weight on the bench, and the inability that day to push more weight. Looking back, that was the chink in the armor. It was the catalyst. It started the voices in my head that said "you can take a couple days off" and "let your body heal up a little" followed shortly by "it's not like you are progressing anyway". These thoughts were my initial undoing. Does this mean I am derailed? I certainly hope not. Does it mean I am giving up? No chance in hell.
Actually what I am about to say might surprise some of you. It might have been the best thing mentally for me to lose these six days. Because it has given me a new lease on my time. It has made me realize that I feel terrible when I don't go to the gym. I feel like I am letting not only myself, but so many other people down by not practicing, by not working out, by not training in some way shape or form. I just can't let that happen. So I write this today, as my little kick in the arse to get motivated again, to get back on the wagon. My six day break has been more than long enough. Tomorrow it's back to the grind, back to building, and back to chasing this goal. No setback is gonna stop this train!
Sunday, February 9, 2014
On a serious note.
I am sitting here this morning, attempting to prepare for leg day, which is my favorite day of the week, but tends to be the most painful for me, and the most treacherous. And I realized I haven't shared with you out there yet necessarily why I am putting myself through this. Why beat my body, and why set a time frame so short as a goal to com, pete in a strength sport. The truth is, that it is as much for me, as it is for a little guy I know. His name is Grey, and he is probably one of the strongest, most positive people I have ever seen. I started this as a pipe dream, which in turn spiraled this kid and his family coming up to see me compete in September. Him and his family have become an inspiration to me, a beacon to guide me, and a motivating force to the way I train. Grey and his family have in a very short period of time, shown me how we should be in this world. This is my way to thank him and his family for that.
Not many of you know I am sure that my wife lost her mother only a short while ago, and for a brief period, she was lost in her guilt, and her pain. Then she found this family, by chance. And then something magical happened, she found purpose in her grief. This family along with a couple others helped her without even knowing that they did. It was shortly after those initial meetings that my loving wife had an idea, a hope, that we could shed some light on childhood cancer and other diseases afflicting our kids, and make the kid happier as well. She founded Blanketed in Hope ( https://www.facebook.com/pages/Blanketed-in-Hope/484037978324638 ) to give kids fighting cancer and other life threatening illnesses something tangible and their own to take with them to the hospitals when they go for their treatments, or stay for a prolonged period of time. A lot of times these kids pick out the colors and designs of their rag quilts, and my wife along with a couple of other "sisters in stitches" sit down, and make them and ship them at no cost to the family what so ever. They ask for donations, and many MANY good people have helped keep my wife's little non profit afloat by donating and sponsoring kids to get these blankets. She has asked me too many times to help her with her sewing, and you can imagine how that turns out for the both of us. I can't stitch to save my life.
But I can lift. I can work. I can start here by spreading the word. I can tell you my story, and the stories of others. I can talk to you when you meet me as to why I am doing this. Which on the surface there seems to be no correlation, but I can tell you right now, that couldn't be farther from the truth. Yes my immediate goals I have already set forth, but I have an ultimate goal, I have an ultimate aspiration. I want to create a strength event like none other. One that brings all the disciplines to the table from strong man, to highland, to powerlifting. I am putting out here right now, I want to see all those strong men and women, I want them all in one place, and I want it all to benefit childhood cancer research. I want the word to be spread, that cancer and other life threatening childhood illnesses are the most under researched of all illnesses in the U.S. I want to do this for Grey, and for Wes, I want to do this for EJ and Kadie. I want those that are still with us to see the support we can give them. And I want those who aren't with us anymore to see that we still care, and that their lives meant more that they could have imagined. I don't know if this is a unattainable pipe dream, but I have to try, and I gotta tell ya, of the heavy athletes I have met so far in my journey, I wouldn't want anyone else with me helping on this but them!
Saturday, February 8, 2014
Dear gym dude....
I am not completely new to the game, I may be new to strength sports, but not new to the gym atmosphere. Not at all. It should also be noted that I have a very VERY low tolerance for what I deem as douche nozzle behavior. Today in your neck of the woods, same as mine would be SATURDAY. Now most gyms I have been to, Saturday morning has been a light time. Most of your beer drinking bravado dudes are nursing their hangovers at the time I am in the gym, which is specifically why I choose to go at that time. 7:30 am and yes I am either heading to the gym, or walking into the front door. I like my time with the iron. I like my time on my own, just me and the bar. It is therapeutic for me, and not to mention to be perfectly honest, I am still a little self conscious about being in front of people. But I just bury that down under an angry looking facade.
Now that we have effectively started this blog, here is the rub. I walk into the shop, stop off at the front desk and exchange some witty banter with the bro behind the counter, and continue to the weight room. And there he is, mister platinum blonde dude. His hair neatly gelled, and he clad in the latest uber gear from where ever. Then he see's me, Chuck T's, old Penn State tee shirt, and beat up torn shorts. Yeah I am that dude in the gym. I think to myself that this guy just screams "tool shed" but fuck it, I gotta get my work in anyway. Besides, he is ONE dude, no way he could possibly be in my way at all.
"Well fuck, apparently it's arm day for him too. Ah well, can't be too bad, I mean it's just us." I said that about three times in my head before I gave up. As most of you can guess, it did go to hell shortly after my arrival, and it didn't even moderately improve through my whole session. It was just all dickered up. Now I would like to take this opportunity to write a little note to the gym dude, if you all would indulge me for a moment.
Dear Gym Dude,
I commend you for your pristine hair at 7:15 this morning, as it is a feat in itself to get all those spikes perfectly positioned, and proportionate to the other. You resemble an emaciated Ivan Drago, a look not many can pull off. Bravo dude. I like your fancy shiny shorts, and your shoes with "springs" (no I literally mean SPRINGS) that you had to tell me about, twice. I can absolutely tell that they make you run faster, lift longer, and make you lion tamer strong. Fuckin a dude. Lastly I am ever so envious of your technology that you pack with you to the gym. Your Ipod thingy, and your cell phone, both of which apparently take pictures, and update status', seem to add to your allure, however they might work better off to the side of some of the equipment, rather than right in front of it, or on it, but hey it's your gym floor bud, I don't wanna mess up your anabolic flow. As a side note, I would love to thank you for showing me the ropes today too, as I have never EVER seen you at this particular gym, your expertise was not only insightful, but God damned exciting too! Thanks again random gym dude, and I would like to say heartily go fuck yourself.
Now please don't take this as a stab at everyone who works out, I am not trying to be that guy at all. But if you are going to the gym, maybe you should go to put work in. Not just hang out, or jaw jack, or talk down to others. I have goals, aspirations, ambitions. I am training, and putting my all into everything I can. I apologize if this post offends you, or maybe if it does, you should leave your damn phone in your car, and go lift some damn weight!
Now that we have effectively started this blog, here is the rub. I walk into the shop, stop off at the front desk and exchange some witty banter with the bro behind the counter, and continue to the weight room. And there he is, mister platinum blonde dude. His hair neatly gelled, and he clad in the latest uber gear from where ever. Then he see's me, Chuck T's, old Penn State tee shirt, and beat up torn shorts. Yeah I am that dude in the gym. I think to myself that this guy just screams "tool shed" but fuck it, I gotta get my work in anyway. Besides, he is ONE dude, no way he could possibly be in my way at all.
"Well fuck, apparently it's arm day for him too. Ah well, can't be too bad, I mean it's just us." I said that about three times in my head before I gave up. As most of you can guess, it did go to hell shortly after my arrival, and it didn't even moderately improve through my whole session. It was just all dickered up. Now I would like to take this opportunity to write a little note to the gym dude, if you all would indulge me for a moment.
Dear Gym Dude,
I commend you for your pristine hair at 7:15 this morning, as it is a feat in itself to get all those spikes perfectly positioned, and proportionate to the other. You resemble an emaciated Ivan Drago, a look not many can pull off. Bravo dude. I like your fancy shiny shorts, and your shoes with "springs" (no I literally mean SPRINGS) that you had to tell me about, twice. I can absolutely tell that they make you run faster, lift longer, and make you lion tamer strong. Fuckin a dude. Lastly I am ever so envious of your technology that you pack with you to the gym. Your Ipod thingy, and your cell phone, both of which apparently take pictures, and update status', seem to add to your allure, however they might work better off to the side of some of the equipment, rather than right in front of it, or on it, but hey it's your gym floor bud, I don't wanna mess up your anabolic flow. As a side note, I would love to thank you for showing me the ropes today too, as I have never EVER seen you at this particular gym, your expertise was not only insightful, but God damned exciting too! Thanks again random gym dude, and I would like to say heartily go fuck yourself.
Now please don't take this as a stab at everyone who works out, I am not trying to be that guy at all. But if you are going to the gym, maybe you should go to put work in. Not just hang out, or jaw jack, or talk down to others. I have goals, aspirations, ambitions. I am training, and putting my all into everything I can. I apologize if this post offends you, or maybe if it does, you should leave your damn phone in your car, and go lift some damn weight!
Friday, February 7, 2014
In the Beginning....
My journey started legitimately about four months ago. I was tired, chubby, weak, and had a ambling direction, but I couldn't tell you where the hell I was heading. I went to the gym, tossed plates onto bars, moved said bars then would go home. No fuss, no muss. A nice easy pace. I was cruising, just punching the time card so to speak. Then for some reason I decided to throw some plates on the dead lift bar. Granted that first pull was not much at all, (135 lbs to be exact) but it changed something in me. Then it was off to the bench to press some weight, then the squat. Then an idea, a goal. I was going to pursue something. I was going to chase an ambition that I have had for as long as I have been what you would call an adult. I was going to train, and compete in strength sports. Training has become a priority for me now. Everyday I am trying to be stronger and better than I was yesterday. There are days that are better than others, that's a given, and there are days that I look like a palsy patient having a stroke on roller skates when I am in the gym, but I am there, pushing, almost every day. This blog is hopefully going to chronicle my path to the 2014 Highland Games in Ligonier, PA. I will talk about everything, from what I am trying in nutrition, to my strength training, my goals and set backs. Every failure and triumph. I am hoping that once a week I will be able to put a personal blog on here, along with all the other shit that I am gonna try and document. Be advised however, this page is gonna be adult content, and those of you who know me, know I use adult words. That being said, here goes nothin'!
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