Jersey Animals
"In the end, we're all just chalk lines on the concrete, drawn, only to be washed away. For the time that I've been given, I am what I am."
My brother in law wanted to get "big arms". Nothing else. I told him that his arms were connected to the rest of his body and if he wanted to work one part he needs to work the rest. I did the easy part and got him started on the right path of lifting and form. Then came the diet. He's a hard gainer so it wasn't easy but he took it really well and that little boy is getting big quick. Made me feel good that someone listens.
A lot of people listen, a lot of people pretend to listen. Sometimes they pretend for your benefit, sometimes they pretend without knowing it.
A pretender is no friend of mine.
I was thinking today about something that I think is hilarious.
I'm in the middle of a bulk right now, and I don't really give a shit if people think I'm fat or skinny or whatever, I'm not doing what I do for anyone else. But I am gaining weight, so I'm also wearing loose baggy clothes. Not the fashionable kind you see some people wearing. I'm talking about 2-4 year old sweats. I don't really care how I look to other people I care about the guy I see in the mirror. I've been gaining a bit, and in my baggy clothes sometimes I look like a bit of a fatass, especially when people see me eating. 2-5 plates piled up. 5lbs of food... People don't understand that underneath the clothes I'm in better shape than them. They don't see what's right in front of them, because they're blinded by the image you choose to show them.
I said what's up to a guy I don't know that well the other day, he didn't recognize me cause in the gym i'm in a stringer tank or a jersey. When I'm out randomly I wear the loose sweats & hoodie. He was like ... bro what the fuck you got shredded... I said thanks, but this is the most BF% i've had in a while... most people don't use their eyes, they don't use their brain.
I'm not going anywhere:
I'm not here because you said I should be. I'm not here to make you happy. I didn't come this far to give up, and I've got more discipline than you can imagine.
A lot of people listen, a lot of people pretend to listen. Sometimes they pretend for your benefit, sometimes they pretend without knowing it.
A pretender is no friend of mine.
I was thinking today about something that I think is hilarious.
I'm in the middle of a bulk right now, and I don't really give a shit if people think I'm fat or skinny or whatever, I'm not doing what I do for anyone else. But I am gaining weight, so I'm also wearing loose baggy clothes. Not the fashionable kind you see some people wearing. I'm talking about 2-4 year old sweats. I don't really care how I look to other people I care about the guy I see in the mirror. I've been gaining a bit, and in my baggy clothes sometimes I look like a bit of a fatass, especially when people see me eating. 2-5 plates piled up. 5lbs of food... People don't understand that underneath the clothes I'm in better shape than them. They don't see what's right in front of them, because they're blinded by the image you choose to show them.
I said what's up to a guy I don't know that well the other day, he didn't recognize me cause in the gym i'm in a stringer tank or a jersey. When I'm out randomly I wear the loose sweats & hoodie. He was like ... bro what the fuck you got shredded... I said thanks, but this is the most BF% i've had in a while... most people don't use their eyes, they don't use their brain.
I'm not going anywhere:
I'm not here because you said I should be. I'm not here to make you happy. I didn't come this far to give up, and I've got more discipline than you can imagine.
"Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need"
"You're not your job. You're not how much money you have in the bank. You're not the car you drive. You're not the contents of your wallet. You're not your fucking khakis. You're the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world.
"
Fight Club.
Great post man, I feel the same, word by word.
Under the bar: Where egos are buried and monsters are born.
I am borne. I breath, eat, sleep. This cycle, it keeps me alive. But I am not alive. I am borne at age 16 in a small gym, in the basement of a school where people are made to train, they don't want to train. I wanted to train. I welcomed waking up an hour and a half before school to train there, and hit the showers while other people were asleep on the bus, making their way to school.
I got my first taste at age 16. Four years ago. I am four years old, because for four years I have been alive. My fourth year I am bigger, stronger, leaner.
I was looking through photos I found the other day, and I found a picture of me, a couple years ago. The changes I've made. You probably wouldn't know it was the same person. For me, it's not the glare of the lights, the unmerciful gaze of the judges. It's here, in the weight room. Here in the only place I can truly call a home, that I find peace. For a split second the golden silence between the crash and clang of iron calls out to me, envelops me, reminds me why I go on.
Another reason I'm not going anywhere: It's the only place I feel alive.