Sanctuary for Social Misfits
From an excerpt from Gray Cook's Movement: Self-Limiting Activities
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What a relief. I don’t have to write the IronOnline weekly newsletter.
Can you say Facebook?
Now I can sit and stare into the corner, free of thought, imagination, emotion and responsibility; just me and nothing, no one and no place, no what and no why. Silence is golden, solitude is priceless, simplicity is lovable, freedom is precious, effortlessness is kindly and uselessness is fragrant.
Actually, uselessness stinks like doggy do. Laree’s grinning from ear to ear in her tower in front of four screens and two keyboards, sporting headphones and trifocals and tapping her feet to the rhythm of organized confusion. Think I’ll head for the gym and create some chaos of my own… out of absolutely nothing.
Of course, if you’re savvy, you know I’ve been consumed with Twitter and Facebook these past days. Yeah, you can’t keep the old dog from learning new tricks and contributing to the cutting edge of the slick, agile and gutsy social media.
For you exotic dull-eyed laggards, a peek at my latest Facebook entry: Eat better, train harder, be tougher, think surer, whine lesser and rest morer.
Elegant! Inspirational! Poetic!
While you adored, studied, absorbed and memorized my Facebook submission, I journeyed to the place where muscles are made and power is built, character is developed and spirits are deepened: the famous, fabulous and fantastic fortifying ferrous fortress, less commonly known as the gym.
I cruised in, grabbed me some iron and commenced tossing it around. Seriously, doesn’t that sound so much better than ‘dizzy and gasping, I staggered in and flopped onto the nearest bench?’ There comes a time when a guy’s got to add a little color to his language.
Sixty minutes twice a week is my new limit, no more, no less. I tried more and realized less. Enough iron action maintains, retains and sustains. Too much wears, tears and interferes.
Be wise. The last thing I want to do is wear myself out.
Let me guess. You wonder the same things. When am I adding to my health, quality of life and years on the winning scoreboard? When am I over-amping the heart, inundating the organs and wearing out the joints? And about this thing called ego; when does it grow up and become an adult. An adult?
Behave. The last thing I want to do is become an adult.
This weights-sets-and-reps thing becomes tricky as time goes by. And this is the trick… feeling, focusing and savoring the fabulous ferrous fortunes, the weight, sets and reps we share day after day, even if (especially if) twice a week does the trick. Tricks are for kids.
Be happy. The last thing I want to do is tricks… and more tricks.
My secret MO:
10 sets Smith steep front press (12,10,9,8,7 - 6,5,4,4,4 reps),
5 final sets supersetted with pulldowns to front and rear
3 sets standing thumbs-up dumbbell curls (6-8 reps), superset with
3 sets of machine dips
Tight, tough, tidy… gone, outta here, later…
The sound of plates clanking on the gym floor is music to the ears…
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