The Journey

I’m head first in it.  I’m all or nothing.  Pick your crappy cliche.  I don’t care.  Change is hardest when everyone stays the same around you and you are the one changing or vice versa.  What is the hardest for me is the fear of quitting.  The fear of throwing in the towel because this life has become so cold and hard.  I don’t want this.  I want to wake up each morning, breath, and plunge into a new day as if throwing myself to the wolves.  It’s useless to try and hide.  This world will find you, chew you up and spit you out.  Where can we escape to each day that makes the plunge so worthwhile.  I find myself underneath the barbell.  That sacred place.

The plunge is no longer difficult, the words fall on deaf ears.  The gloves come off as I grip steel with the palms of my hands.  Calloused and bruised, I push and pull.  The plunge takes me deeper and deeper into a state of hysteria.  Should I choose to climb out of the deepening blackness, would there be something greater than myself to find?  Maybe, but I choose to plunge.  I choose to make each day a reward in itself.  The passing hours greeted with an anxiousness of life and dreams.  

There’s nothing more inspiring than truly living your life.  Pursuing so passionately what you know will take forever and a day to find.  It’s not at all about finding that dream or what it is, it’s about the plunge that you had to take to get there.  Now, don’t ask me how to get there because I’m deep in the blackness already.  ****, I was there a long time ago.  I relish in it.  This journey has become such a part of me that it almost seems like my life is consumed by the blackness.  I don’t care.  Take it how you will.  I’m in it to find something bigger than me.  I’m in it to find strength that I have lost through the years.  That’s the truth.  The harder it gets, the more determined I become.

I remember when I used to play soccer in high school my father coached a travelling team.  We played all around New Jersey.  We weren’t amazing or anything, but we played our hardest no matter what.  Our goalie’s name was Josh and he was a freaking Ox.  He wasn’t a huge dude, but he was probably a shredded 175 pounds.  One of the games we played was particularly intense and we were down by 1 goal.  I was sweating my ass off because it was like 85 degrees.  It happened so quick that I didn’t even realize it.  The other team was on the offensive and a quick lob pass turned into a breakaway 1 on 1 with Josh.  One of our defenders was quickly catching up to the offender that broke loose so the guy took a whale of a shot kicking the ball perfectly to the corner of the net.  There was no way Josh could get this.  No way in hell.

It was like some magical manifesto.  Some pre-determined set fate.  I saw Josh leap from almost one end of the net to the other.  He got barely a finger tip on the soccer ball which diverted it enough to hit the post and bounce out of bounds.  The next thing I knew there were ambulances that drove onto the field and Josh was carried off on a stretcher.  He suffered a mild concussion from his head hitting one of the goal posts.  He jumped that far and that high that his whole head hit that damn goal post.

My dad went to visit him at the hospital and by this time he was feeling pretty decent.  The first thing that came out of his mouth was, "did we win?"  Incredible.  Call me crazy, but that is some ****ing courage.  His injuries meant nothing to him.  What meant most to him was the respect and honor that his teammates gave him.

I fight for this each day.  Knowing that Josh could leap so far and so high drives me to excel.  To  exceed my own expectations everyday.  When I’m there at the bottom of a grueling drop set of hack squats and my guts are about to fall all over the floor I know that I can leap.  Throw myself in front of danger and laugh.  This builds character.  This builds ethic.  This builds me.

There are so many damn machines in gyms these days.  Isolate this and isolate that.  It seems people are convinced that putting on slabs of muscle comes from doing endless sets of machine curls.  I guess it’s just a matter of education and not knowing any better, but it irritates me.  It’s because the real muscle builders are so hard and so taxing on the body that people are too lazy to do them.  

The deadlift, the squat, and the press (bench, or overhead).  These movements constitute the basis for a powerful, strong physique.  They are the foundation of all my routines and of all my workouts.  I know I’m not a huge guy or anything, but I know the basics for getting stronger and bigger.  To all those who incorporate these lifts in your workouts.  This rant wasn’t directed towards you.  To all those who don’t, realize that you are missing out on some huge gains.

Frank McGrath tribute
I saw this video of Frank on youtube.  It’s not his size that inspires me (even though he is huge) it’s the concentration and the focus that he gives each rep that amazes me.  His devotion to the sport goes without saying.

Each workout is 1 more workout towards the best version of me.  That is my motto.  That is what I live by.  By these standards there is no excuse for laziness, no room for the lethargic behavior that deters me from being my best.  The road to success is long and arduous, but the demands of life need to be met with a fierce vigor.  I punch my time card, and at the end of the day I will know that my heart and soul have given everything to fight forward into the incredible journey inward.

The progress?  Slow, painfully slow sometimes.  The reward?  Not even a pat on the back.  No one around you to tell you "awesome job, man."  Just the ringing of some good tunes coming out of my headphones as I re-rack the weight.  No smile, or nod to bring satisfaction for your accomplishment.  Your reward is mental.  Your reward is to step in the shoes of those before you, who had fought in the same fashion to gain honor, courage, and respect.

I want to look 2 years down the road of my training and see myself being the best version of me ever, but I know that even then I will not be happy.  This is the curse that we who try to perfect our bodies deal with each day.  Your lats can be wider, your shoulders rounder, your hamstrings bigger.  It’s the inevitable journey that brings to light all our flaws, but highlights the disciple and the confidence that we gain with every single day.

I hold nothing back.  I spread my guts on the floor and give it everything.  In the hopes that the journey forward will allow me to wake up and know that all I have said and done will bring me closer to who I am.

I’ve been on the same routine now for about 4 months and I think it’s time for a change.  The one change that I have realized is that I cannot really focus on my hamstrings after I have compeleted some hardcore sets for quads.  I’ve seen it done before where the quads and hams have been seperated so that equal development can be had, so I figure I’ll institute that at least for 2-3 months.  We’ll see how that goes until I get to my mass phase where it’s back to hardcore 5-days with heavy ass weight.

Current Split:
Friday - Chest/Abs
Saturday - Back/Calves
Sunday - Off
Monday - Shoulders/Abs
Tuesday - Bi’s/Tri’s/Forearms
Wednesday - Quads/Hams/Calves (legs)
Thursday - Off

New Split:
Chest/Abs
Quads/Calves
Shoulders/Traps/Abs
Back
Bi’s/Tri’s/Forearms
Hams/Calves/Abs

How’s that look?  I know I’ll be in the gym 6 days a week, but for me…that ain’t no problem, and I’ll have no problem with recovery because I won’t have a day where I’m blasting my entire leg region for an hour and a half.

I didn’t want to lose a pound this week, but somehow it happened.  I didn’t think I was in a calorie deficit, and I know I am taking in more carbs than I was before.  Looks like we’ll have to go higher in calories again.  Oh darn!