Save the World One Bomber at a Time
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Let's take a quick head count. There'll be no musclebuilders left behind in '18. 2019 is the year for unprecedented gains in health, strength, mass, shape and muscularity. For some folks, the size of their bank account, bottom line and paycheck rules their lives. Not us; it is biceps, quadriceps (one more rep) and long life or nothing. We are not corrupted by greed.
Actually, I could use a few bucks.
Those of us given to bombing and blasting, or the notion thereof, seldom let go of the trigger. Moods, injuries, illness, responsibilities or projects can temporarily sabotage the mission, but soon we are back on target. Our instincts, determination and fortitude (I omitted selfishness) enable us to arrange our daily lives to suit our training needs. Hmmm... I suppose it should be the other way around -- arrange our training needs to suit our daily lives. Whatever.
Too much is at stake; too much is risked should we release our strong grip on the iron, our stern grasp of right nutrition, that vein across the long head of the biceps, the finally emerging striations in the deltoids, the cut between the intercostals and obliques.
A missed workout could mean a loss of training momentum, the stimulation of dormant guilt, the recession of self-confidence, the cessation of humor and joy, the return of that cruel streak, the deterioration of purpose and will and the eventual shriveling of the body, mind and soul.
Missing a workout can be a bummer.
We can sit around in a circle and discuss the old and new training methods crossing our minds, the minds of advanced trainers and the pages of research and text. We can tell stories about our own training experiences and those heralded by robust lifters we know. We can share menus, compare training routines, review facts, fiction, rumors, lies and old strongman tales about muscles and might, and we would come away charged, enlivened and encouraged. Our enthusiasm to train would be lifted and secured and our love for training and our fellow participants would be affirmed.
Real sharing can be fun. We'd roll our eyes and chuckle at the absurd training notions and practices of the beastly men of yore and shrug our shoulders and shake our heads at the insta-might and muscle methodologies put forth by thin-limbed computer techies and writers of health and fitness magazines. A little of this 'n' a little of that and bam, pow.
We might stumble upon unique techniques practiced by the up-and-coming lifters from a training school on the border of Germany and Russia or a hardcore gym in Chicago or Paris, only to learn that certain ingredients flavor their protein drinks and the methods of exercise they employ are sort of ordinary, incidental. Sticks 'n' stacks, no racks.
But we would not part from the group enlightened. A clear and firm understanding of how to train would not be established. We would only have more ideas, thoughts and dreams in various disguises to unravel and consider, fodder for the bin from whence we gather material for our next diet and next routine.
That's what it's all about, you know, anything to keep us going with spirit from month to month, workout to workout. It's best, of course, when it's sane and sensible and worthy. Hold that thought for a sec; sometimes even the insane, senseless and worthless play an important role in our training scheme. They teach us the hard and strong lessons we would never otherwise learn:
25 sets of 25 reps in 25 minutes for biceps mass does not work. Oops! Mikey evaporated!
A hammer and sharp chisel for cuts in the midsection can be messy. Suture, swab, transfusion!
Bulking up on two gallons of milk and two dozen eggs and two pounds of daily beef works, but has its drawbacks. Glub, gurgle, burp!
The fact that there is nothing new does not mean there is no hope. Rather, it reinforces hope. You know everything imperative and essential to know; you need only apply them with assurance and zeal, A to Z.
And this -- eager application, willful engagement, enthusiastic implementation -- is in your control.
How sad for the men and women who lack will, purpose and drive. They are empty beings without the spirit to excite them, no hearts full of desire, devoid of souls that long passionately. They are lost; they don't wonder, they don't wander, they go nowhere.
And their numbers are growing.
Some people say I'm grim when I draw focus to this phenomenon. It's that I am extraordinarily hopeful that I perceive the unacceptable condition and its silent, sinister stir among us.
Simply by our actions, we can impress friends and influence people. Our commitment to eating right, not drinking (much) or doing drugs, not smoking ever and exercising regularly with grit and enthusiasm will inspire those around us. And in inspiring those around us, we will inspire ourselves. How simple!
You're not training for just yourself anymore; you're training for them, the world of lost brothers and sisters. They don't have a clue, 70 percent of the masses you bump into. Their activity is limited to bumping into you, and a major workout consists of rooting for the home team.
Here's what we need to do. We start by thinking positively.
"Oh," you're saying, "what genius. Why didn't I think of that, especially after today's rant?"
I was not ranting, my dear friend. I was positively expounding.
We need to look at these faults in our structure if we are to fix them. And we are to perceive them not as faults, but as little wiggles we need to rework.
We start by positive thinking, followed by like application. Work on the deltoids and back first, and the bis and tris will follow. A broad structure conveys power and authority, whereas arms alone indicate an insecure amateur trying to gain cheap attention. Get real.
And about the abs thing; they're cute but they cost ya big time. Squat, deadlift, blast it. Let's go for some mass and not by eating potatoes and drinking beer. What kind of influence is that going to have on the lost and clueless? Protein, girls and boys, protein... and nutritionally valuable carbs and worthwhile fats.
Save the world one bomber at a time.
The cloud covering is clearing and a hint of sunny blue sky is straight overhead. We've got places to go and things to do in 2019. We soar. We fly high.
God's speed.
Dave
*****
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