It's been a while since I've posted, so I figure I'd throw a quick one in...
The cashier got a terrified look on their face and said" "Are you sure??? I don't think that bag will hold."
Little did she know that I used to be a bag boy and I know that THAT is definitely not true. I said "Don't worry, I got it."
|Ol' Yeargain during his angsty bag boy days...so many feels...|
This got me thinking...
People Have No Faith.
I'm not talking about religious faith, I'm talking about faith in the basic concepts of structural integrity, in strength and what we as human beings are capable of. People in today's society are bred to think and feel weak. To be dependent on things, to have no faith in the damn structures of our God given mechanisms. The result is that the majority of us are weak for most of our lives. And I'm not just talking about physical weakness, this transcends way past the point of a barbell. In fact our mental weakness leaks into the rest our lives and manifests itself on our physical being way more often. I'm still digging myself out of the weakness hole I crawled myself into for years. It's only after dedicating over a year of my life to this pursuit that I'm able to see sunlight. To peer directly into that fiery ball of ferocity that bears down on us, exposing the insignificance we all feel day to day.
People aren't strong because they don't believe they can be. They aren't beautiful because they don't think they are capable of being beautiful. They're not loved, talented, exceptional because they don't trust that those kinds of powers are within them.
All of the things I listed above are subjective and relative to the individual. They are titles we assign to others, yet often times neglect pinning them on our own shirts under the tag that states: "Hello, My name is..."
If you have no faith in yourself or at the very least your potential, no one else will...at least for not very long.
Just recently my mother did 120lbs for reps on her squat. This is fantastic progress considering her height, weight, age and training experience. But, I believe she was concerned.
She asked me: "How much more will I add to the bar?"
I replied: "You never stop!!!! Muahahaha!!!!"
This obviously is not true, eventually her progress will halt, or at the very least stall, but who knows when or where that will be. I could throw up some calculations and estimations, but I'd rather just let the process work itself out. She started on a 20lb dumbbell goblet squat, and now she's carrying a bar on her back the weight of an adolescent. That's progress that doesn't come from thinking about end goals. That's carrying the pig up the mountain everyday and letting it drink from that tasty ass spring mountain water kind of progress.
We as humans are all about survival, it's in our genetic make up to do whatever we can to do so at all costs. We know when we are in danger, and that's partly why strength training in a progressive manner is so effective. It stimulates an anabolic response in the body because of the continued stress we put on it, it's our bodies way of adapting to stress to insure survival. The fact that we end up looking sexier on the other end is consequential.
Now, had I given my mother 120lbs to start her program for her squat, I'd be in the market for a new momma. Something I'm not really interested in doing. She has never lifted serious weight in her life, at least not in this manner. So, her body was not prepared for it. Her muscles may have been able to take the burden for a few sessions, but her joints, ligaments, and connective tissue would have called it quits. It was necessary for her to take this amount of time to get used to the kind of stresses necessary for overall muscular development.
The result from these protocols: Maintaining a very healthy body weight, while playing YOLO with her diet here and there while on vacation WHILE going down in clothing size numbers...oh, and she has an immensely demanding job that places a great deal of stress on her, takes care of her home, family, and pretty much makes sure all of us stay afloat.
Suck on that, you rat wheel runnin sons of bitches.
Rome wasn't built in a day, but it sure as hell wasn't built sitting down watching trashy celebrity sitcoms or by walking on a slight incline while reading People magazine. It was made on the sweat, blood, and backs of slaves and prisoners, and since we don't have the luxury to have those working for our goals and deeds, better start pushing those stones up that hill.
Until next time, trust in your strength, don't assume your end goal, look at my Momma for inspiration, and as always...
Lift Big, Sing Big, and Look Great Doing it.
The Opera Bro