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Hatred
01-17-07, 4:57 pm
I'll never forget this Article.

Henry Rollins Article

I believe that the definition of definition is reinvention. To not be like your parents. To not be like your friends. To be yourself.
Completely.

When I was young I had no sense of myself. All I was, was a product of all the fear and humiliation I suffered. Fear of my parents. The humiliation of teachers calling me "garbage can" and telling me I'd be mowing lawns for a living. And the very real terror of my fellow students. I was threatened and beaten up for the color of my skin and my size. I was skinny and clumsy, and when others would tease me I didn't run home crying, wondering why. I knew all too well. I was there to be antagonized. In sports I was laughed at. A spaz. I was pretty good at boxing but only because the rage that filled my every waking moment made me wild and unpredictable. I fought with some strange fury. The other boys thought I was crazy.

I hated myself all the time. As stupid at it seems now, I wanted to talk like them, dress like them, carry myself with the ease of knowing that I wasn't going to get pounded in the hallway between classes. Years passed and I learned to keep it all inside. I only talked to a few boys in my grade. Other losers. Some of them are to this day the greatest people I have ever known. Hang out with a guy who has had his head flushed down a toilet a few times, treat him with respect, and you'll find a faithful friend forever. But even with friends, school sucked. Teachers gave me hard time. I didn't think much of them either.

Then came Mr. Pepperman, my advisor. He was a powerfully built Vietnam veteran, and he was scary. No one ever talked out of turn in his class.Once one kid did and Mr. P. lifted him off the ground and pinned him to the blackboard. Mr. P. could see that I was in bad shape, and one Friday in October he asked me if I had ever worked out with weights. I told him no. He told me that I was going to take some of the money that I had saved and buy a hundred-pound set of weights at Sears. As I left his office, I started to think of things I would say to him on Monday when he asked about the weights that I was not going to buy. Still, it made me feel special. My father never really got that close to caring. On Saturday I bought the weights, but I couldn't even drag them to my mom's car. An attendant laughed at me as he put them on a dolly.

Monday came and I was called into Mr. P.'s office after school. He said that he was going to show me how to work out. He was going to put me on a program and start hitting me in the solar plexus in the hallway when I wasn't looking. When I could take the punch we would know that we were getting somewhere. At no time was I to look at myself in the mirror or tell anyone at school what I was doing. In the gym he showed me ten basic exercises. I paid more attention than I ever did in any of my classes. I didn't want to blow it. I went home that night and started right in.

Weeks passed, and every once in a while Mr. P. would give me a shot and drop me in the hallway, sending my books flying. The other students didn't know what to think. More weeks passed, and I was steadily adding new weights to the bar. I could sense the power inside my body growing. I could feel it.

Right before Christmas break I was walking to class, and from out of nowhere Mr. Pepperman appeared and gave me a shot in the chest. I laughed and kept going. He said I could look at myself now. I got home and ran to the bathroom and pulled off my shirt. I saw a body, not just the shell that housed my stomach and my heart. My biceps bulged. My chest had definition. I felt strong. It was the first time I can remember having a sense of myself. I had done something and no one could ever take it away. You couldn't say **** to me.

Hatred
01-17-07, 4:57 pm
It took me years to fully appreciate the value of the lessons I have learned from the Iron. I used to think that it was my adversary, that I was trying to lift that which does not want to be lifted. I was wrong. When the Iron doesn't want to come off the mat, it's the kindest thing it can do for you. If it flew up and went through the ceiling, it wouldn't teach you anything. That's the way the Iron talks to you. It tells you that the material you work with is that which you will come to resemble. That which you work against will always work against you.

It wasn't until my late twenties that I learned that by working out I had given myself a great gift. I learned that nothing good comes without work and a certain amount of pain. When I finish a set that leaves me shaking, I know more about myself. When something gets bad, I know it can't be as bad as that workout.

I used to fight the pain, but recently this became clear to me: pain is not my enemy; it is my call to greatness. But when dealing with the Iron, one must be careful to interpret the pain correctly. Most injuries involving the Iron come from ego. I once spent a few weeks lifting weight that my body wasn't ready for and spent a few months not picking up anything heavier than a fork. Try to lift what you're not prepared to and the Iron will teach you a little lesson in restraint and self-control.

I have never met a truly strong person who didn't have self-respect. I think a lot of inwardly and outwardly directed contempt passes itself off as self-respect: the idea of raising yourself by stepping on someone's shoulders instead of doing it yourself. When I see guys working out for cosmetic reasons, I see vanity exposing them in the worst way, as cartoon characters, billboards for imbalance and insecurity. Strength reveals itself through character. It is the difference between bouncers who get off strong-arming people and Mr.Pepperman.

Muscle mass does not always equal strength. Strength is kindness and sensitivity. Strength is understanding that your power is both physical and emotional. That it comes from the body and the mind. And the heart.

Yukio Mishima said that he could not entertain the idea of romance if he was not strong. Romance is such a strong and overwhelming passion, a weakened body cannot sustain it for long. I have some of my most romantic thoughts when I am with the Iron. Once I was in love with a woman. I thought about her the most when the pain from a workout was racing through my body.

Everything in me wanted her. So much so that sex was only a fraction of my total desire. It was the single most intense love I have ever felt, but she lived far away and I didn't see her very often. Working out was a healthy way of dealing with the loneliness. To this day, when I work out I usually listen to ballads.

I prefer to work out alone. It enables me to concentrate on the lessons that the Iron has for me. Learning about what you're made of is always time well spent, and I have found no better teacher. The Iron had taught me how to live. Life is capable of driving you out of your mind. The way it all comes down these days, it's some kind of miracle if you're not insane. People have become separated from their bodies. They are no longer whole.

I see them move from their offices to their cars and on to their suburban homes. They stress out constantly, they lose sleep, they eat badly. And they behave badly. Their egos run wild; they become motivated by that which will eventually give them a massive stroke. They need the Iron Mind.

Through the years, I have combined meditation, action, and the Iron into a single strength. I believe that when the body is strong, the mind thinks strong thoughts. Time spent away from the Iron makes my mind degenerate. I wallow in a thick depression. My body shuts down my mind.

The Iron is the best antidepressant I have ever found. There is no better way to fight weakness than with strength. Once the mind and body have been awakened to their true potential, it's impossible to turn back.

The Iron never lies to you. You can walk outside and listen to all kinds of talk, get told that you're a god or a total bastard. The Iron will always kick you the real deal. The Iron is the great reference point, the all-knowing perspective giver. Always there like a beacon in the pitch black. I have found the Iron to be my greatest friend. It never freaks out on me, never runs. Friends may come and go. But two hundred pounds is always two hundred pounds.
-Henry Rollins

NeverContent
01-17-07, 8:07 pm
good shit bro

TylerC
01-17-07, 10:48 pm
good article

dIdDy
01-18-07, 11:56 am
Henry Rollins is deep. any more stuff by him?

TheBecoming
01-18-07, 12:01 pm
Thanks for putting this article up Hatred. If this doesn't get you to come screaming out of the gates then there's something wrong. I've been a reader and fan of Rollins for years and his thoughts and philosophy are a huge inspiration for me. Anyone who has a zero bullshit tolerance and is focused on kicking ass in every aspect of their life should look to my man Rollins for the words to help you out.

TheBecoming
01-18-07, 12:03 pm
Henry Rollins is deep. any more stuff by him?

Go to the Rollins website 2.13.61.com for a list of his books. I've read everything the man has ever written.

Phil800101
01-18-07, 3:49 pm
Awesome, Hatred.

I was just thinking about this story the other day. I've been a huge fan of Rollins for about the last five years now, and this is easily one of my favorite pieces of his writing, if not my favorite overall. Truly inspiring stuff.

peterpyper
01-18-07, 4:46 pm
what a coeinky doink rofl i got the samn article on my web site page,good motivation story made me tear a little cause some part of the article i based my lifed on

The Wanderer
01-20-07, 2:10 pm
All I can say is thanks man, that was awesome.

D-Bomb
01-20-07, 3:27 pm
this shit is timeless im printing this truth out for the generations, the iron aint stopping with me this is running down my bloodline, ill be damned if something so incredibly life changing does not reach every single persons lives.

thanks for the posts brother.

KC Irish
01-20-07, 3:39 pm
I did the same thing as D-Bomb as soon as I read this. Printed it out and posted it on my wall as a daily reminder. Thanks for this article. I only hope there are more like it.

pumpaholic
01-20-07, 10:14 pm
Now that is ANIMAL. Every line is a different life lesson. I am going to check up on some more of his stuff.

pdiesel
01-21-07, 1:43 am
damn thats motivating..

BigWillay
01-22-07, 7:27 pm
Every time i see this article i feel something inside light up...its fuel to the machine inside...it never siezes to amaze
good stuff brother
im glad you posted so people who havent read it can do so here

Hollywood
01-22-07, 7:45 pm
Rollins produces some of the best work out there I love readin his stuff.

IronTeacher
01-23-07, 9:30 am
I teach the iron to my high school students, it is really cool to see the few who truly get what rollins is saying. find the meaning in you and you'll good

Hatred
01-23-07, 2:41 pm
Take great pride in knowing that you sir are changing their lives. I'm not patronizing you it's just the damn truth. I'll remember Coach Bunevich til I die.
Used to chew athletic tape to strengthen his jaw muscles.

Hatred
01-23-07, 3:03 pm
What Seperates us from them

"So, what are you doing for a living these days?" Bob asked me. We're sitting on the couch at one of those tedious holiday get-togethers, you know, the ones where you're supposed to be nice to family members you never see except during major holidays and funerals. I think Bob is my wife's brother-in-law's second cousin or something.

"I'm the assistant editor and a writer for Testosterone magazine," I say. Bob looks at me with a blank expression on his face, as if I'd just told him I sell handmade testicle warmers beside the freeway and was looking to open franchises across the nation.

"It's a bodybuilding magazine," I say.

Blank expression. Deer caught in the headlights. Ronnie Coleman doing trigonometry.

"Oh," Bob finally says, "I heard you were, like, one of those bodybuilder guys or something. So, what's that like, you know, working out every day and stuff? I just don't have time to lift weights all day, but I have been meaning to get rid of this beer belly." He takes another sip of beer. "What do you suggest?" Sip.

At first I was a little offended. I wanted to grab him up and say, "You can't tell I'm a bodybuilder?! Look at my ass! Now, if that's not a nice round squat-built piece of sirloin, I don't know what is! You think that comes naturally? I can crack walnuts with this puppy! Wanna see? Huh, punk? Do ya? Do ya?"

Then I realize this just might cause a scene and could cost me several Christmas presents. I was planning on returning any presents I got and using the money to buy a power rack, so I didn't want to jeopardize this gift getting opportunity. I also realized that old Bob probably had a certain preconceived image of a bodybuilder and I just didn't fit that image. I'm not gorilla huge; I weigh about 205 at 5'11" right now. (When I first started lifting I was a pudgy 159, so that's not too shabby.) Also, I wasn't wearing clown pants, a fluorescent string tank top, a hanky on my head and one of those little fanny packs. And isn't that what real bodybuilders are supposed to wear?

Bob continued to sit there drinking his Natural Light, smoking a cigarette and waiting for an answer, oblivious to the fact that he'd come this close to seeing some serious walnut- crunching ass power. I tried to figure out how I could explain to the average guy what the typical T-Man does and why he does it. How could I get him to understand what it is we do, how we feel, how we live? So I took a deep breath and told him something like this:

"Well, Bob, I guess you could use the term bodybuilder if you really need a label for what it is we do. Most of us actually don't stand on stage and compete, though. We lift weights and manipulate our diets so that we'll look good naked. Sure, it's healthy too, and we'll probably live a longer and more productive life than the average guy, but mostly it's about the naked thing. Truthfully, it goes beyond even that.

Hatred
01-23-07, 3:04 pm
"Let's be honest here. We do it because of people like you, Bob. We look at you sitting there with your gut hanging over your belt and we watch you grunt and groan just getting out of a chair. Guys like you are our inspiration, Bob. You're better than Anthony Robbins, Bill Phillips, Deepak Chopra, and Zig fucking Ziglar all wrapped up into one. We love it when guys like you talk about not having time to exercise. Every time we see you munching on a bag of potato chips, you inspire us. You're my shot in the arm, Bob, my living and breathing wake-up call, my own personal success coach.

"You want to know what it is we do? We overcome. We're too busy to train, too, but we overcome. We're too busy to prepare healthy meals and eat them five or six times a day, but we overcome. We can't always afford supplements, our genetics aren't perfect, and we don't always feel like going to the gym. Some of us used to be just like you, Bob, but guess what? We've overcome.

"We like to watch 'normal' people like you tell us about how they can't get in shape. We smile and nod sympathetically like we feel your pain, but actually, we're thinking that you're a pathetic piece of shit that needs to grow a spine and join a gym. You smile sheepishly and say that you just can't stay motivated and just can't stand that feeling of being sore. (For some reason you think that admitting your weaknesses somehow justifies them.) We listen to you bitch and moan. We watch you look for the easy way out. Because of people like you, Bob, we never miss a workout.

"You ask us for advice about diet and training and usually we politely offer some guidance, but deep inside we know you won't take our advice. You know that too. We smile and say, 'Hope that helps. Good luck,' but actually we're thinking, 'Boy, it would suck to be you.' We know that 99% of people won't listen to us. Once they hear that it takes hard work, sacrifice and discipline, they stop listening and tune us out.

"We know they wanted us to say that building a great body is easy, but it just isn't. This did not take five minutes a day on a TorsoTrack. We did not get this way in 12 short weeks using a Bowflex and the Suzanne Somers' 'Get Skinny' diet. A good body does not cost five easy payments of $39.95.

"We like it that while you're eating a candy bar and drinking Mountain Dew, we're sucking down a protein shake. You see, that makes it taste even better to us. While you're asleep we're either getting up early or staying up late, hitting the iron, pushing ourselves, learning, succeeding and failing and rising above the norm with every rep. Can you feel that, Bob? Can you relate? No? Good. This wouldn't be half as fun if you could.

"We do it because we absolutely and totally get off on it. We do it because people like you, Bob, either can't or won't. We do it because what we do in the gym transfers over into the rest of our lives and changes us, physically, mentally, maybe even spiritually. We do it because it beats watching fishing and golf on TV. By the way, do you know what it's like to turn the head of a beautiful woman because of the way you're built? It feels good, Bob. Damned good.

"When we're in the gym, we're in this indescribable euphoria zone. It's a feeling of being on, of being completely alive and aware. If you haven't been there, then it's like trying to describe color to a person who's been blind since birth. Within this haze of pleasure and pain, there's knowledge and power, self-discipline and self-reliance. If you do it long enough, Bob, there's even enlightenment. Sometimes, the answers to questions you didn't even know you had are sitting there on those rubber mats, wrapped up in a neat package of iron plates and bars.

"Want to lose that beer belly, Bob? I have a nutty idea. Put down the fucking beer. I'll tell you what, Bob. Christmas morning I'm getting up real early and hitting the iron. I want to watch my daughter open her presents and spend the whole day with her, so this is the only time I have to train. The gym will be closed, so I'm going out in my garage to workout. You be at my house at six in the morning, okay? I'll be glad to help you get started on a weight training program. It'll be colder than Hillary Clinton's coochie in there, so dress warm.

"But let me tell you something, Bob. If you don't show up, don't bother asking me again. And don't you ever sit there and let me hear you bitch about your beer belly again. This is your chance, your big opportunity to break out of that rut. If you don't show up, Bob, you've learned a very important lesson about yourself, haven't you? You won't like that lesson.

"You won't like that feeling in the pit of your stomach either or that taste in your mouth. It will taste worse than defeat, Bob. Defeat tastes pretty goddamned nasty, but what you'll be experiencing will be much worse. It will be the knowledge that you're weak, mentally and physically. What's worse is that you'll have accepted that feeling. The feeling will always be with you. In the happiest moments of your life, it'll be there, lying under the surface like a malignant tumor. Ignore it at your own peril, Bob.

"Don't look at me like that either. This just may be the best Christmas present you'll get this year. Next Christmas, Bob, when I see you again, I'm going to be a little bigger, a little stronger, and a little leaner. What will you be? Will you still be making excuses? This is a gift, Bob, from me to you. I'm giving you the chance to look fate in those pretty eyes of hers and say, 'Step off, Bitch. This is my party and you're not invited.' What do you say, Bob? Monday, Christmas morning, 6am, my house. The ball's in your court."

Okay, so maybe that's not the exact words I used with Bob, but you get the picture. Will Bob show up Monday? I don't know, but I kind of doubt it. In fact, Bob will probably take me off his Christmas card list. He probably thinks I've got "too much Testosterone," like that's a bad thing. I think Bob is just stuck in a rut, and as the saying goes, the only difference between a rut and a grave is depth.

Hatred
01-23-07, 3:06 pm
The way out of the rut is to make major changes in your life, most of which won't be too pleasant in the beginning. The opportunity to make those changes seldom comes as bluntly as I put it to Bob. Most of the time, that opportunity knocks very softly. What I did was basically give Bob a verbal slap in the face. You can react two ways to a slap. You can get angry at the person doing the slapping, or you can realize that he was just trying to get you to wake up and focus on what you really want and, more importantly, what it'll take to get it.

If you're a regular T-mag reader, I doubt you need to be called out like Bob. But maybe you've caught yourself slacking a little here lately. Maybe you've missed a few workouts or maybe you started a little too early on the usual holiday feasting, like, say, back in September. Just remember that the time to start working on that summer body is now. The time to get rid of those bad habits that hold you back in the gym is now. You want to look totally different by next Christmas? Start now. This isn't because of the holidays or any corny New Year's resolutions either. The best time is always now.

Christmas day I want you to enjoy being with your family and friends. I want you to open presents, sip a little eggnog and have a good meal. But if your regularily scheduled workout happens to fall on December 25th, what will you be doing at six o'clock that morning?
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Credit goes to Tmag. And this post is older than Dirt, but will always apply.

wedge
01-24-07, 2:27 am
Sometimes old school is the way to go.

wedge
01-24-07, 2:29 am
Hatred, I'm starting to think your the man to look up if I need some motivation to hit the gym. Keep it up, I and I'm sure other appreciate it.
I remember the first time I read the story by Rollins. I think I spouted it off to anyone who'd listen.
Friends come and go, but a 100 pounds is always 100 pounds.

Radahh
01-24-07, 2:37 am
What Seperates us from them

oblivious to the fact that he'd come this close to seeing some serious walnut- crunching ass power.



LOL that's a great line....ha

Carthus4
01-24-07, 10:31 am
What Seperates us from them



Blank expression. Deer caught in the headlights. Ronnie Coleman doing trigonometry.

Laughing my ass off

Hatred
01-24-07, 3:10 pm
I'm just getting started brother. Y'all haven't even seen some of my own shit.

I have a journal elsewhere that is 3.5 yrs long with a lot of great shit in it. I feel comfortable saying this because I forget about it fromtime to time and go back. Some of it I can't believe I wrote.

Folly
01-24-07, 3:23 pm
Merry Fucking Christmas, Bob.

The_Dude
01-24-07, 3:37 pm
NICE!! Printed and posted on my cubicle at work for all to read.

gnoll5
01-24-07, 4:42 pm
awesome man....awesome.

abs
01-24-07, 5:12 pm
Thank you, Hatred. Never thought about the parallels until now.

Hatred
01-24-07, 10:02 pm
Absolutely.
What is greatness?
Greatness is doing what others do not. That extra set? Adding weight we know will break us but struggling against it. Doing what we do not want to do or what makes us uncomfortable to achieve what we do want. It is the heart and soul of this lifestyle.

Greatness in your life is going out of your way to help a friend. pick them up when they are too drunk to drive, give someone a home when they need it. Inconveniencing yourself for the greater good and the big picture.
Greatness is coming in early and staying late. Stretching yourself in all areas of your life. Noone ever grew by remaining complacent or comfortable.

I've moved and followed opportunities 3 times. from Ohio to Tn to Fla to Ca.
Not on a whim. I just couldn't bear th e thought of not seizing an opportunity. I've left a lot of people behind..but not forgotten. They are still a part of my life. I regret leaving sometimes. (esp florida)..I take that back.. I don't regret it at all. But I do miss it.

I've been eating about 20 eggs, 2 lbs of oats a day,40 oz of beef.32 oz of chicken potatos shakes you name it.
My diet is BLAND. But I take joy in stuffing my face with my recent results and progress. It is for the greater good and I've learned to revel in it. Even when the dry ass chicken gets stuck in my throat I laugh a lil about it.
This lifestyle has changed my life from the ground up and it's not done yet.

Melkvik
01-26-07, 10:40 am
great story bro

We overcome

IronTeacher
01-26-07, 2:53 pm
I have never been one of the crowd. I talk to a hundred people a day but yet, I still search for another torch-bearer. One who will hold a beacon for others in the dark. A calling card to few others who understand the searing pain of life is only fretted by 1 more rep, 1 more set. It is the only thing that truly keeps me sane, the knowledge that I will find others who believe in themsevles to punish and sacrifice in a world made for metrosexuals. So many people hold the signs of mediocrity, its easy to waste away. A poem I read the other day, it takes skilled labors years to build a magnificent building, but wreckers only a few days to destroy. We take years of time to build ourselves, for ourselves; to achieve a perfect building. Then the wreckers, the ones who will never understand destroy the things they cannot attain. These destroyers come in every shape of life and tear down other achievements because they themselves cannot achieve. What are you? A builder or destroyer?

Hatred
01-26-07, 3:16 pm
That's some good shit. I'm saving it. Cool? Is it yours?

KC Irish
01-28-07, 12:02 pm
I know you
you were too short
you had bad skin
you couldn't talk to them very well
words didn't seem to work
they lied when they came out of your mouth
you tried so hard to understand them
you wanted to be part of what was happening
you saw them having fun
and it seemed like such a mystery
almost magic
made you think that there was something wrong with you
you'd look in the mirror trying to find it
you thought that you were ugly
and that everyone was looking at you
so you learned to be invisible
to look down
to avoid conversation
the hours
days
weekends
ah the weekend nights, alone
where were you
in the basement?
in the attic?
in your room?
working some job?
just to have something to do
just to have a place to put yourself
just to have a way to get away from them
a chance to get away from the ones that made you feel so strange and ill-at-ease inside yourself
did you ever get invited to one of their parties
you sat and wondered if you would go or not
for hours you imagined the scenarios that might transpire
they would laugh at you
if you would know what to do
if you would have the right things on
if they would notice that you came from a different planet
did you get all brave in your thoughts
like you were going to be able to go in there and deal with it
and have a great time
did you think that you might be "the life of the party"
that all these people were gonna talk to you
and you would find out that you were wrong
that you had a lot of friends
and you weren't so strange after all?
did you end up going
did they mess with you
did they single you out
did you find out that you were invited
because they thought you were so weird

KC Irish
01-28-07, 12:03 pm
yeah, I think I know you
you spent a lot of time full of hate
a hate that was pure as sunshine
a hate that saw for miles
a hate that kept you up at night
a hate that filled your every waking moment
a hate that carried you for a long time
yes I think I know you
you couldn't figure out what they saw and the way they lived
home was not home
your room was home
a corner was home
the place they weren't- that was home
I know you
you're sensitive
and you hide it, because you fear getting stepped on one more time
it seems that when you show a part of yourself that is the least bit vulnerable
someone takes advantage of you
one of them steps on you
they mistake kindness for weakness
but you know the difference
you've been the brunt of their weakness for years
and strength is something you know a bit about
because you had to be strong to keep yourself alive
you know yourself very well now
and you don't trust people
you know them too well
you try to find that "special person"
someone you can be with
someone you can touch
someone you can talk to
someone you won't feel so strange around
and you found that they don't really exist
you feel closer to people on movie screens
yeah, I think I know you
you spend a lot of time daydreaming
and people have made comment to that effect
telling you that you're "self-involved" and "self-centered"
but they don't know, do they
about the long nightshifts alone
about the years of keeping yourself company
all the nights you wrapped your arms around yourself
so you could imagine someone holding you
the hours of indecision
self-doubt
the intense depression
the blinding hate
the rage that made you stagger
the devastation of rejection
well
maybe they do know
but if they do
they sure do a good job of hiding it
it astounds you how they can be so smooth
how they seem to pass through life as if life itself was some divine gift
and it infuriates you to watch yourself with your apparent skill,
and finding every way possible to screw it up
for you, life is a long trip
terrifying and wonderful
birds sing to you at night
the rain and the sun
the changing seasons
are true friends
solitude is a hard won ally
faithful and patient
yeah, I think I know you

-- Henry Rollins

dIdDy
01-29-07, 6:08 am
Hatred, once again you draw the picture that could not be drawn. it's like you can read my fucking mind...erie

IronTeacher
01-29-07, 9:24 am
hatred,
some of it is,
the builder and destroyer is from lou holtz I think.

Berserker
02-01-07, 6:55 am
Ronnie Coleman doing trigonometry.


HAHAHAHHAHA!!!!! awesome.

Bulldozin727
02-01-07, 11:53 am
Great Post Bro, like a thread of light in the dark. If I ever get lost along the way, this post will be here to guide me back home. Thanx Hatred for all your words. Peace- Nick

EIGHTY-TWO
02-01-07, 2:58 pm
Hatred, once again you draw the picture that could not be drawn. it's like you can read my fucking mind...erie


Couldn't agree more....wow !

Hatred
02-01-07, 5:02 pm
Whoa..gentlemen....I can't claim credit for this. This is some shit I came across when I first started living the lifestyle..It was just too good not to share.

Credit goes to an editor over at T-mag. Credits are at the bottom.
I keep my shit that I write in my journal.

TufffGuY
03-09-07, 6:02 pm
damn bro thats really tight

Hatred
03-09-07, 6:05 pm
Henry Rollins with another fantastic read gentlemen. Awesome KC.

rev8ball
07-17-07, 12:43 pm
I found this great article, but it's too long to post here, so I posted it on my blog.

http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog&Mytoken=4F320D45-F292-4837-A3BD4BCA662204A156959947

Take a look - VERY inspirational...

brandonA
07-17-07, 12:51 pm
I found this great article, but it's too long to post here, so I posted it on my blog.

http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog&Mytoken=4F320D45-F292-4837-A3BD4BCA662204A156959947

Take a look - VERY inspirational...

Cant make it work bro, what is yourmyspace web address thingy?
-B

rev8ball
07-17-07, 1:23 pm
Cant make it work bro, what is yourmyspace web address thingy?
-B


Try this:

http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&friendID=625241&blogID=288701691

brandonA
07-17-07, 1:25 pm
Try this:

http://blog.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=blog.view&friendID=625241&blogID=288701691

YEA!!!!!!!....that one works..thanks bro...will check it out..

-B

MassMonster
07-17-07, 1:35 pm
for sum reason the 1st link sends me to my own blog but the second 1 sends me to the right thing....

brandonA
07-17-07, 1:47 pm
Great read Rev, thanks for sharing...

-B

Maccabee
07-17-07, 9:39 pm
That was a great read. Some real motivational stuff. Thanks for sharing.

Phil800101
07-17-07, 11:44 pm
For those that don't know, that's "The Iron" from the book: Do I Come Here Often? by Henry Rollins. Really great stuff, definitely one of my favorites.

violator
07-18-07, 3:43 am
Raise the Black Flag!!
great article....
thanks rev8ball....

peace

IRONADDICT45
07-25-07, 1:20 pm
im sure lots of us can relate to this one

Jaymafin
07-25-07, 1:33 pm
yes i can relate to that.

Medford
07-26-07, 12:57 pm
I liked his article in Details about him and weight training

Molasses
07-26-07, 1:50 pm
I love Rollins, i've seen a few concerts of his and hes the man. His show kicks some major ass too, I love it.

Good post man, thanks

Medford
07-26-07, 5:54 pm
he used to have his own book publishing company, named after his birthday

Phil800101
07-27-07, 11:20 am
He still does, and the man is still spreading the word, in print, in person, and on his tv show on IFC. I'm going to see him on his spoken word tour in Chicago in October, he was awesome the last time I saw him. I always find him to be both inspiring and entertaining, plus it's cool when he talks about his workouts in some of his books (such as his latest "A Dull Roar: How I Spent My Summer Deracination") Here's his website: http://www.henryrollins.com/

Preston
07-27-07, 11:38 am
Rollins played some crazy ass MMA fighter in Def Jam Fight for New York...crazy ass game...haha he was so badass in that game....I know, it was a game...but still....intense.


lol

BeastofBurden
07-27-07, 12:14 pm
that's some fuckin' reality right there. Look up Bodybuilding: A lifestyle on YouTube, if you haven't seen it some narrorating in it is from Rollins

BAD ASS MARTIN
09-12-07, 10:18 am
The iron never lies to you. You can walk out side and listen to all kinds of talk, get told your a god or a total bastard. The iron will always kick the real deal. The iron is a great reference point, the all-knowing perspective giver. Always there like a beacon in the pitch black. I have found the iron to be my greatest friend. It never freaks out on me, never runs. Friends may come and go but two hundred pounds will always be two hundred pounds...

- Henry Rollins

Phil800101
09-12-07, 3:05 pm
Anyone going to see Rollins on his upcoming spoken word tour?

ghost
09-12-07, 3:08 pm
October 13th here in michigan....gonna have to hit this up.

Phil800101
09-12-07, 11:20 pm
Cool. I have tickets for Chicago on October 19th. I saw him the last time he was in Chicago, it was great stuff, really funny, eye-opening, and inspiring. It's somewhat different than his writing, though. Ever seen any of his spoken word DVDs? If you haven't, check one out, 'cause that will give you a good idea of what to expect.

Lionstrong
01-08-08, 3:09 am
I admire Rollins...to bad he hates cops

ghost
07-24-08, 9:45 am
THE IRON by Henry Rollins

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I believe that the definition of definition is reinvention. To not be like your parents. To not be like your friends. To be yourself.
Completely.

When I was young I had no sense of myself. All I was, was a product of all the fear and humiliation I suffered. Fear of my parents. The humiliation of teachers calling me "garbage can" and telling me I'd be mowing lawns for a living. And the very real terror of my fellow students. I was threatened and beaten up for the color of my skin and my size. I was skinny and clumsy, and when others would tease me I didn't run home crying, wondering why. I knew all too well. I was there to be antagonized. In sports I was laughed at. A spaz. I was pretty good at boxing but only because the rage that filled my every waking moment made me wild and unpredictable. I fought with some strange fury. The other boys thought I was crazy.

I hated myself all the time. As stupid at it seems now, I wanted to talk like them, dress like them, carry myself with the ease of knowing that I wasn't going to get pounded in the hallway between classes. Years passed and I learned to keep it all inside. I only talked to a few boys in my grade. Other losers. Some of them are to this day the greatest people I have ever known. Hang out with a guy who has had his head flushed down a toilet a few times, treat him with respect, and you'll find a faithful friend forever. But even with friends, school sucked. Teachers gave me hard time. I didn't think much of them either.

Then came Mr. Pepperman, my advisor. He was a powerfully built Vietnam veteran, and he was scary. No one ever talked out of turn in his class.Once one kid did and Mr. P. lifted him off the ground and pinned him to the blackboard. Mr. P. could see that I was in bad shape, and one Friday in October he asked me if I had ever worked out with weights. I told him no. He told me that I was going to take some of the money that I had saved and buy a hundred-pound set of weights at Sears. As I left his office, I started to think of things I would say to him on Monday when he asked about the weights that I was not going to buy. Still, it made me feel special. My father never really got that close to caring. On Saturday I bought the weights, but I couldn't even drag them to my mom's car. An attendant laughed at me as he put them on a dolly.

Monday came and I was called into Mr. P.'s office after school. He said that he was going to show me how to work out. He was going to put me on a program and start hitting me in the solar plexus in the hallway when I wasn't looking. When I could take the punch we would know that we were getting somewhere. At no time was I to look at myself in the mirror or tell anyone at school what I was doing. In the gym he showed me ten basic exercises. I paid more attention than I ever did in any of my classes. I didn't want to blow it. I went home that night and started right in.

Weeks passed, and every once in a while Mr. P. would give me a shot and drop me in the hallway, sending my books flying. The other students didn't know what to think. More weeks passed, and I was steadily adding new weights to the bar. I could sense the power inside my body growing. I could feel it.

Right before Christmas break I was walking to class, and from out of nowhere Mr. Pepperman appeared and gave me a shot in the chest. I laughed and kept going. He said I could look at myself now. I got home and ran to the bathroom and pulled off my shirt. I saw a body, not just the shell that housed my stomach and my heart. My biceps bulged. My chest had definition. I felt strong. It was the first time I can remember having a sense of myself. I had done something and no one could ever take it away. You couldn't say &&*@ to me.

It took me years to fully appreciate the value of the lessons I have
learned from the Iron. I used to think that it was my adversary, that I was trying to lift that which does not want to be lifted. I was
wrong. When the Iron doesn't want to come off the mat, it's the kindest thing it can do for you. If it flew up and went through the ceiling, it wouldn't teach you anything. That's the way the Iron talks to you. It tells you that the material you work with is that which you will come to resemble. That which you work against will always work against you.

It wasn't until my late twenties that I learned that by working out I had given myself a great gift. I learned that nothing good comes without work and a certain amount of pain. When I finish a set that leaves me shaking, I know more about myself. When something gets bad, I know it can't be as bad as that workout.

I used to fight the pain, but recently this became clear to me: pain is not my enemy; it is my call to greatness. But when dealing with the Iron, one must be careful to interpret the pain correctly. Most injuries involving the Iron come from ego. I once spent a few weeks lifting weight that my body wasn't ready for and spent a few months not picking up anything heavier than a fork. Try to lift what you're not prepared to and the Iron will teach you a little lesson in restraint and self-control.

I have never met a truly strong person who didn't have self-respect. I think a lot of inwardly and outwardly directed contempt passes itself off as self-respect: the idea of raising yourself by stepping on someone's shoulders instead of doing it yourself. When I see guys working out for cosmetic reasons, I see vanity exposing them in the worst way, as cartoon characters, billboards for imbalance and insecurity. Strength reveals itself through character. It is the difference between bouncers who get off strong-arming people and Mr.Pepperman.

Muscle mass does not always equal strength. Strength is kindness and sensitivity. Strength is understanding that your power is both physical and emotional. That it comes from the body and the mind. And the heart.

Yukio Mishima said that he could not entertain the idea of romance if he was not strong. Romance is such a strong and overwhelming passion, a weakened body cannot sustain it for long. I have some of my most romantic thoughts when I am with the Iron. Once I was in love with a woman. I thought about her the most when the pain from a workout was racing through my body.

Everything in me wanted her. So much so that sex was only a fraction of my total desire. It was the single most intense love I have ever felt, but she lived far away and I didn't see her very often. Working out was a healthy way of dealing with the loneliness. To this day, when I work out I usually listen to ballads.

I prefer to work out alone. It enables me to concentrate on the lessons that the Iron has for me. Learning about what you're made of is always time well spent, and I have found no better teacher. The Iron had taught me how to live. Life is capable of driving you out of your mind. The way it all comes down these days, it's some kind of miracle if you're not insane. People have become separated from their bodies. They are no longer whole.

I see them move from their offices to their cars and on to their suburban homes. They stress out constantly, they lose sleep, they eat badly. And they behave badly. Their egos run wild; they become motivated by that which will eventually give them a massive stroke. They need the Iron Mind.

Through the years, I have combined meditation, action, and the Iron into a single strength. I believe that when the body is strong, the mind thinks strong thoughts. Time spent away from the Iron makes my mind degenerate. I wallow in a thick depression. My body shuts down my mind.

The Iron is the best antidepressant I have ever found. There is no better way to fight weakness than with strength. Once the mind and body have been awakened to their true potential, it's impossible to turn back.

The Iron never lies to you. You can walk outside and listen to all kinds of talk, get told that you're a god or a total *******. The Iron will always kick you the real deal. The Iron is the great reference point, the all-knowing perspective giver. Always there like a beacon in the pitch black. I have found the Iron to be my greatest friend. It never freaks out on me, never runs. Friends may come and go. But two hundred pounds is always two hundred pounds.

ghost
07-24-08, 9:48 am
I posted this for a few reasons...


people often quote this article, and often misquote it. I wanted everyone on here to have the actual article, and be able to read it whenever they wanted to.


very inspirational piece.

Iron4Life
07-24-08, 10:56 am
solid post and article....its motivating as hell...ive been reading this for a while now...defiantly something to turn to when your feeling a little sluggish

shizz702
07-24-08, 10:58 am
Yea I've read that piece many times, I have the last part of it taped up in my garage where I train. It's so motivational, inspirational, and true.

houseofpain
07-24-08, 11:13 am
thanks, rcrott. i'll definitely be dropping back from time to time to give it a read when i feel unmotivated.

wedge
07-24-08, 11:41 am
This is like seeing a Rocky movie on TV. No matter how many times you've seen or read it, you have to do it again. Highly inspirational.
Thanks.

BryanSmash!
12-19-08, 6:19 pm
"The Iron" by Henry Rollins:

http://www.oldtimestrongman.com/henryrollins_iron.html

An emotional article with sound points.

Kludwig64
12-19-08, 6:28 pm
very motivating

TigerAce01
10-10-09, 9:30 pm
IRON, from Details Magazine
By Henry Rollins

I believe that the definition of definition is reinvention. To not be like your parents. To not be like your friends. To be yourself.

Completely.

When I was young I had no sense of myself. All I was, was a product of all the fear and humiliation I suffered. Fear of my parents. The humiliation of teachers calling me "garbage can" and telling me I'd be mowing lawns for a living. And the very real terror of my fellow students. I was threatened and beaten up for the color of my skin and my size. I was skinny and clumsy, and when others would tease me I didn't run home crying, wondering why. I knew all too well. I was there to be antagonized. In sports I was laughed at. A spaz. I was pretty good at boxing but only because the rage that filled my every waking moment made me wild and unpredictable. I fought with some strange fury. The other boys thought I was crazy.

I hated myself all the time. As stupid at it seems now, I wanted to talk like them, dress like them, carry myself with the ease of knowing that I wasn't going to get pounded in the hallway between classes. Years passed and I learned to keep it all inside. I only talked to a few boys in my grade. Other losers. Some of them are to this day the greatest people I have ever known. Hang out with a guy who has had his head flushed down a toilet a few times, treat him with respect, and you'll find a faithful friend forever. But even with friends, school sucked. Teachers gave me hard time. I didn't think much of them either.

Then came Mr. Pepperman, my advisor. He was a powerfully built Vietnam veteran, and he was scary. No one ever talked out of turn in his class. Once one kid did and Mr. P. lifted him off the ground and pinned him to the blackboard. Mr. P. could see that I was in bad shape, and one Friday in October he asked me if I had ever worked out with weights. I told him no. He told me that I was going to take some of the money that I had saved and buy a hundred-pound set of weights at Sears. As I left his office, I started to think of things I would say to him on Monday when he asked about the weights that I was not going to buy. Still, it made me feel special. My father never really got that close to caring. On Saturday I bought the weights, but I couldn't even drag them to my mom's car. An attendant laughed at me as he put them on a dolly.

Monday came and I was called into Mr. P.'s office after school. He said that he was going to show me how to work out. He was going to put me on a program and start hitting me in the solar plexus in the hallway when I wasn't looking. When I could take the punch we would know that we were getting somewhere. At no time was I to look at myself in the mirror or tell anyone at school what I was doing. In the gym he showed me ten basic exercises. I paid more attention than I ever did in any of my classes. I didn't want to blow it. I went home that night and started right in.

Weeks passed, and every once in a while Mr. P. would give me a shot and drop me in the hallway, sending my books flying. The other students didn't know what to think. More weeks passed, and I was steadily adding new weights to the bar. I could sense the power inside my body growing. I could feel it.

Right before Christmas break I was walking to class, and from out of nowhere Mr. Pepperman appeared and gave me a shot in the chest. I laughed and kept going. He said I could look at myself now. I got home and ran to the bathroom and pulled off my shirt. I saw a body, not just the shell that housed my stomach and my heart. My biceps bulged. My chest had definition. I felt strong. It was the first time I can remember having a sense of myself. I had done something and no one could ever take it away. You couldn't say shit to me.

It took me years to fully appreciate the value of the lessons I have learned from the Iron. I used to think that it was my adversary, that I was trying to lift that which does not want to be lifted. I was wrong. When the Iron doesn't want to come off the mat, it's the kindest thing it can do for you. If it flew up and went through the ceiling, it wouldn't teach you anything. That's the way the Iron talks to you. It tells you that the material you work with is that which you will come to resemble. That which you work against will always work against you.

It wasn't until my late twenties that I learned that by working out I had given myself a great gift. I learned that nothing good comes without work and a certain amount of pain. When I finish a set that leaves me shaking, I know more about myself. When something gets bad, I know it can't be as bad as that workout.

I used to fight the pain, but recently this became clear to me: pain is not my enemy; it is my call to greatness. But when dealing with the Iron, one must be careful to interpret the pain correctly. Most injuries involving the Iron come from ego. I once spent a few weeks lifting weight that my body wasn't ready for and spent a few months not picking up anything heavier than a fork. Try to lift what you're not prepared to and the Iron will teach you a little lesson in restraint and self-control.

I have never met a truly strong person who didn't have self-respect. I think a lot of inwardly and outwardly directed contempt passes itself off as self-respect: the idea of raising yourself by stepping on someone's shoulders instead of doing it yourself. When I see guys working out for cosmetic reasons, I see vanity exposing them in the worst way, as cartoon characters, billboards for imbalance and insecurity. Strength reveals itself through character. It is the difference between bouncers who get off strong-arming people and Mr. Pepperman.

Muscle mass does not always equal strength. Strength is kindness and sensitivity. Strength is understanding that your power is both physical and emotional. That it comes from the body and the mind. And the heart.

Yukio Mishima said that he could not entertain the idea of romance if he was not strong. Romance is such a strong and overwhelming passion, a weakened body cannot sustain it for long. I have some of my most romantic thoughts when I am with the Iron. Once I was in love with a woman. I thought about her the most when the pain from a workout was racing through my body.

Everything in me wanted her. So much so that sex was only a fraction of my total desire. It was the single most intense love I have ever felt, but she lived far away and I didn't see her very often. Working out was a healthy way of dealing with the loneliness. To this day, when I work out I usually listen to ballads.

I prefer to work out alone. It enables me to concentrate on the lessons that the Iron has for me. Learning about what you're made of is always time well spent, and I have found no better teacher. The Iron had taught me how to live. Life is capable of driving you out of your mind. The way it all comes down these days, it's some kind of miracle if you're not insane. People have become separated from their bodies. They are no longer whole.

I see them move from their offices to their cars and on to their suburban homes. They stress out constantly, they lose sleep, they eat badly. And they behave badly. Their egos run wild; they become motivated by that which will eventually give them a massive stroke. They need the Iron Mind.

Through the years, I have combined meditation, action, and the Iron into a single strength. I believe that when the body is strong, the mind thinks strong thoughts. Time spent away from the Iron makes my mind degenerate. I wallow in a thick depression. My body shuts down my mind.

The Iron is the best antidepressant I have ever found. There is no better way to fight weakness than with strength. Once the mind and body have been awakened to their true potential, it's impossible to turn back.

The Iron never lies to you. You can walk outside and listen to all kinds of talk, get told that you're a god or a total bastard. The Iron will always kick you the real deal. The Iron is the great reference point, the all-knowing perspective giver. Always there like a beacon in the pitch black. I have found the Iron to be my greatest friend. It never freaks out on me, never runs. Friends may come and go. But two hundred pounds is always two hundred pounds.

D-Bomb
10-14-09, 9:35 am
yeah, I think I know you
you spent a lot of time full of hate
a hate that was pure as sunshine
a hate that saw for miles
a hate that kept you up at night
a hate that filled your every waking moment
a hate that carried you for a long time
yes I think I know you
you couldn't figure out what they saw and the way they lived
home was not home
your room was home
a corner was home
the place they weren't- that was home
I know you
you're sensitive
and you hide it, because you fear getting stepped on one more time
it seems that when you show a part of yourself that is the least bit vulnerable
someone takes advantage of you
one of them steps on you
they mistake kindness for weakness
but you know the difference
you've been the brunt of their weakness for years
and strength is something you know a bit about
because you had to be strong to keep yourself alive
you know yourself very well now
and you don't trust people
you know them too well
you try to find that "special person"
someone you can be with
someone you can touch
someone you can talk to
someone you won't feel so strange around
and you found that they don't really exist
you feel closer to people on movie screens
yeah, I think I know you
you spend a lot of time daydreaming
and people have made comment to that effect
telling you that you're "self-involved" and "self-centered"
but they don't know, do they
about the long nightshifts alone
about the years of keeping yourself company
all the nights you wrapped your arms around yourself
so you could imagine someone holding you
the hours of indecision
self-doubt
the intense depression
the blinding hate
the rage that made you stagger
the devastation of rejection
well
maybe they do know
but if they do
they sure do a good job of hiding it
it astounds you how they can be so smooth
how they seem to pass through life as if life itself was some divine gift
and it infuriates you to watch yourself with your apparent skill,
and finding every way possible to screw it up
for you, life is a long trip
terrifying and wonderful
birds sing to you at night
the rain and the sun
the changing seasons
are true friends
solitude is a hard won ally
faithful and patient
yeah, I think I know you

-- Henry Rollins

holy shit that sent shivers down my entire body...you speak my mind fluently...solitude is my company, distraught in exposed weakness i laugh it off yet cry inside...

its fucked ...

charlievanriper
10-14-09, 9:45 am
holy shit that sent shivers down my entire body...you speak my mind fluently...solitude is my company, distraught in exposed weakness i laugh it off yet cry inside...

its fucked ...

Holy Christ has this guy been following me since I was 15?

charlievanriper
10-14-09, 10:00 am
IRON, from Details Magazine
By Henry Rollins

I believe that the definition of definition is reinvention. To not be like your parents. To not be like your friends. To be yourself.

Completely.

When I was young I had no sense of myself. All I was, was a product of all the fear and humiliation I suffered. Fear of my parents. The humiliation of teachers calling me "garbage can" and telling me I'd be mowing lawns for a living. And the very real terror of my fellow students. I was threatened and beaten up for the color of my skin and my size. I was skinny and clumsy, and when others would tease me I didn't run home crying, wondering why. I knew all too well. I was there to be antagonized. In sports I was laughed at. A spaz. I was pretty good at boxing but only because the rage that filled my every waking moment made me wild and unpredictable. I fought with some strange fury. The other boys thought I was crazy.

I hated myself all the time. As stupid at it seems now, I wanted to talk like them, dress like them, carry myself with the ease of knowing that I wasn't going to get pounded in the hallway between classes. Years passed and I learned to keep it all inside. I only talked to a few boys in my grade. Other losers. Some of them are to this day the greatest people I have ever known. Hang out with a guy who has had his head flushed down a toilet a few times, treat him with respect, and you'll find a faithful friend forever. But even with friends, school sucked. Teachers gave me hard time. I didn't think much of them either.

Then came Mr. Pepperman, my advisor. He was a powerfully built Vietnam veteran, and he was scary. No one ever talked out of turn in his class. Once one kid did and Mr. P. lifted him off the ground and pinned him to the blackboard. Mr. P. could see that I was in bad shape, and one Friday in October he asked me if I had ever worked out with weights. I told him no. He told me that I was going to take some of the money that I had saved and buy a hundred-pound set of weights at Sears. As I left his office, I started to think of things I would say to him on Monday when he asked about the weights that I was not going to buy. Still, it made me feel special. My father never really got that close to caring. On Saturday I bought the weights, but I couldn't even drag them to my mom's car. An attendant laughed at me as he put them on a dolly.

Monday came and I was called into Mr. P.'s office after school. He said that he was going to show me how to work out. He was going to put me on a program and start hitting me in the solar plexus in the hallway when I wasn't looking. When I could take the punch we would know that we were getting somewhere. At no time was I to look at myself in the mirror or tell anyone at school what I was doing. In the gym he showed me ten basic exercises. I paid more attention than I ever did in any of my classes. I didn't want to blow it. I went home that night and started right in.

Weeks passed, and every once in a while Mr. P. would give me a shot and drop me in the hallway, sending my books flying. The other students didn't know what to think. More weeks passed, and I was steadily adding new weights to the bar. I could sense the power inside my body growing. I could feel it.

Right before Christmas break I was walking to class, and from out of nowhere Mr. Pepperman appeared and gave me a shot in the chest. I laughed and kept going. He said I could look at myself now. I got home and ran to the bathroom and pulled off my shirt. I saw a body, not just the shell that housed my stomach and my heart. My biceps bulged. My chest had definition. I felt strong. It was the first time I can remember having a sense of myself. I had done something and no one could ever take it away. You couldn't say shit to me.

It took me years to fully appreciate the value of the lessons I have learned from the Iron. I used to think that it was my adversary, that I was trying to lift that which does not want to be lifted. I was wrong. When the Iron doesn't want to come off the mat, it's the kindest thing it can do for you. If it flew up and went through the ceiling, it wouldn't teach you anything. That's the way the Iron talks to you. It tells you that the material you work with is that which you will come to resemble. That which you work against will always work against you.

It wasn't until my late twenties that I learned that by working out I had given myself a great gift. I learned that nothing good comes without work and a certain amount of pain. When I finish a set that leaves me shaking, I know more about myself. When something gets bad, I know it can't be as bad as that workout.

I used to fight the pain, but recently this became clear to me: pain is not my enemy; it is my call to greatness. But when dealing with the Iron, one must be careful to interpret the pain correctly. Most injuries involving the Iron come from ego. I once spent a few weeks lifting weight that my body wasn't ready for and spent a few months not picking up anything heavier than a fork. Try to lift what you're not prepared to and the Iron will teach you a little lesson in restraint and self-control.

I have never met a truly strong person who didn't have self-respect. I think a lot of inwardly and outwardly directed contempt passes itself off as self-respect: the idea of raising yourself by stepping on someone's shoulders instead of doing it yourself. When I see guys working out for cosmetic reasons, I see vanity exposing them in the worst way, as cartoon characters, billboards for imbalance and insecurity. Strength reveals itself through character. It is the difference between bouncers who get off strong-arming people and Mr. Pepperman.

Muscle mass does not always equal strength. Strength is kindness and sensitivity. Strength is understanding that your power is both physical and emotional. That it comes from the body and the mind. And the heart.

Yukio Mishima said that he could not entertain the idea of romance if he was not strong. Romance is such a strong and overwhelming passion, a weakened body cannot sustain it for long. I have some of my most romantic thoughts when I am with the Iron. Once I was in love with a woman. I thought about her the most when the pain from a workout was racing through my body.

Everything in me wanted her. So much so that sex was only a fraction of my total desire. It was the single most intense love I have ever felt, but she lived far away and I didn't see her very often. Working out was a healthy way of dealing with the loneliness. To this day, when I work out I usually listen to ballads.

I prefer to work out alone. It enables me to concentrate on the lessons that the Iron has for me. Learning about what you're made of is always time well spent, and I have found no better teacher. The Iron had taught me how to live. Life is capable of driving you out of your mind. The way it all comes down these days, it's some kind of miracle if you're not insane. People have become separated from their bodies. They are no longer whole.

I see them move from their offices to their cars and on to their suburban homes. They stress out constantly, they lose sleep, they eat badly. And they behave badly. Their egos run wild; they become motivated by that which will eventually give them a massive stroke. They need the Iron Mind.

Through the years, I have combined meditation, action, and the Iron into a single strength. I believe that when the body is strong, the mind thinks strong thoughts. Time spent away from the Iron makes my mind degenerate. I wallow in a thick depression. My body shuts down my mind.

The Iron is the best antidepressant I have ever found. There is no better way to fight weakness than with strength. Once the mind and body have been awakened to their true potential, it's impossible to turn back.

The Iron never lies to you. You can walk outside and listen to all kinds of talk, get told that you're a god or a total bastard. The Iron will always kick you the real deal. The Iron is the great reference point, the all-knowing perspective giver. Always there like a beacon in the pitch black. I have found the Iron to be my greatest friend. It never freaks out on me, never runs. Friends may come and go. But two hundred pounds is always two hundred pounds.


Awesome and vary close ( the only real difference is I was not picked on as a kid, I had older andvary large friends who made it vary clear nobody touched Charlie nobody) As a freshman 3 football players tried to stuff me in a garbage can, needless to say i ended up watching as 1 ended up in the can and the other 2 made a dash for class. Other than that I was a skinny scrawny 90 lb weakling and yes I sucked in sports except baseball I could catch but was to scared of the ball to be good at bat, because of that I never tried to excell or participate in sports. Thats why I chose to hang with the Freaks in the park because I wanted so hard to fit in and be somebody, and that probably carries over to a lot of my attitude today ( the feeling of just wanting to be liked and to be somebody) the Iron has given me that. This is the first time I have read any of HR stuff but I have found a kindred soul in this man!

D-Bomb
10-14-09, 12:56 pm
Holy Christ has this guy been following me since I was 15?

who me? hahaha!

charlievanriper
10-14-09, 4:27 pm
who me? hahaha!

LOL D- na would be funny but no I meant Henry that dude had to know me back in HS cause for the first 2 yrs that was me lol.

TigerAce01
10-14-09, 4:43 pm
LOL D- na would be funny but no I meant Henry that dude had to know me back in HS cause for the first 2 yrs that was me lol.

Nah, Henry was that guy...he has stated many many times that he was the outsider, the guy people loved to hate, and the bottom of the barrel of the minimum wage working class. For even more of an insight, go to youtube and listen to "I Know You" by Henry Rollins...I prefer the mix with Nine Inch Nails...

-Ace