Don't be shocked when you read this.
We're ALL human.
There is weakness in ALL of us. In my mind, weakness is evil, so it pisses me off and inspires me into action.
It's 8:15 PM on a Monday night. My gym is over 90 degrees and my energy has been put towards MANY things:
- Waking up at 5 AM to do work on the beautiful interwebs.
- Playing Tennis with my kids and losing against my 9 year old daughter (Truth)
- Driving 45 minutes to the gym and 45 minutes lies ahead of me to get home
- I'm hungry.
- I'm very hot and drenched in sweat.
- I've put my heart, fist and soul into coaching athletes. THAT is tiring.
And shit..... I still didn't get a chance to train yet.
I can drive home and just call it a day.
"There's always tomorrow" they say.....
But I'll be damned if I become like "everyone else". That is the last thing I want to be part of.
I'm almost 40.....
But somehow, someway, regardless of your age, you MUST be on a Vision Quest of your own.
Regrets are painful. They will give you nightmares. They will haunt you. They will punch you in the kidney every time you dare give a seconds thought to skipping today's workout.
[youtube width="640" height="360"]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5tBgmtLqvlk[/youtube]
Just when you think you're too tired you realize that is the biggest bull shyt excuses.
I think about my Grandparents escaping from The Holocaust.
I think of my Grandfather who fought in The Polish Army, The Russian Army and The Israeli Army. My excuses become invalid immediately.
I remind myself that to lead my athletes from The Underground Strength Gym I must walk the talk. No one wants to listen to a bull shitter. EARN your respect, there are NO hand outs in life..... Actually, yes there are, BUT if you have pride in yourself, you don't accept hand outs.
You FIGHT for what you want and ride no one else's wave to success.
My thoughts of driving home and cranking the AC in my car at 8:15 begin to change.
I grab a Keg and carry it for a few trips to get my mind organized.
"Train like a farm boy" I tell myself.
"Be a bad mother fucker" I tell myself.
Deep down we ALL know the TRUE "Bad Mother Fuckers" are out there on the front lines, but you can't go walking around accepting mediocrity in your life.
After a few trips of Keg Carries my pride is rising. I begin to embrace the fact that MOST people woulda gotten into their cozy car, cranked the AC and driven home.
Ahhhhhhh, to be different. To NOT be "normal". That shit inspires me right there. FUCK normal.
I'm not inspiring myself through big biceps and ripped abs. That just doesn't inspire me anymore. I walk over and grab the Safety Squat Bar. This bar sucks. It's 75 lbs and just wrestling it onto the squat rack is a pain in the ass. Taking the harder road already makes me feel better.
Set after set my mind and body get stronger. As one.
I start walking differently, chest up, chin held high, proud of myself. I shut the garage door and shut the door to make things harder on myself. No fresh air. More heat. Less comfort.
It brings me back to the high school wrestling room circa 1989 - 1993 at Edison High. Coach Pagach telling me "Hey! Get Tough!". Coach Gerba walking over to me as I am drilling and he whispers, "Keep working hard."
When you respect your coaches AND fear them, you forget how tired you are and you push to the next level. You don't want to let them down.
I remember where I came from and who I am.
I think about being STRONG for my family. A strength that can not be measured in pounds on the bar but in the way you fight to succeed in life.
I take a deep breath and get under that bar. I squat. I push myself and right when I want to give up and rack the bar, I take 1 final deep breath, push those hips back. Force the knees out. Get below parallel. Squat that Mother Fucker UP!
Unrack the weights and listen to the weights clanging together. Sweat covers my body. I can hear my heart beat. Ahhhhhhh, I'm alive. Not just existing, but truly LIVING. Those who merely exist would be driving home now, cranking the AC.
I chose a different path.
That is all.
Live The Code 365,