"How long have you been working out?"
The question that most people ask me, especially in the gym. And most of the time, if not all, its asked by people who are just starting out,the wannabe gym rats, pencil neck students and yuppies, looking for a short cut, some scientific formula or an ideal answer. They all want to hear the same thing: 6 months...or maybe 1 year. And they all think it's done just by lifting heavy ass weight. Usually, i don't even bother explaining the details but occasionally, when i do, the expression that dawns on their faces is fucking hilarious. It always starts with an enthusiastic look as if I'm going to throw them a HUGE one-liner secret but when i'm not even 5 minutes into it, a look of disbelief starts showing up. Again, fucking hilarious.
I can go all the way into the other areas that are crucial to building a great physique but saving those for more posts, lets first look at duration. That's always the question anyway: How long?.
I've been lifting for a total of close to 7 years now. Inconsistent, I admit, due to injuries and other worldly responsibilities so I'd say about 4 years of real lifting. Trainwreck and I have decided to go all out, no turning back, late last year and we are ploughing through with success at the moment. Week after week, slowly but definitely progressively, we're going beyond our limits with each training session. We now feel livid, pumped and greater than ever. Once you reach an intensity such as this, you can actually determine and set the bar to the next level.
The noobcakes in the current gym we go to seem to think that we started lifting about a year ago from scratch but there is no way in hell you can fucking be at 75-80kgs from a start of 55-60kgs after 6 months of training. Juice? Maybe, but we don't do it. Great display of knowledge right there, dimwits. Going natural, it takes much more than that. Bodybuilding is a sport that requires a lot of commitment, discipline, sacrifice, patience and TIME. So if you're looking for great results after a year of training, this is not for you.
So, how long again you ask? Let's just say, it's way longer than your average fappin' time.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
It's called Resistance Training guys
Resistance. [ri-zis-tuh ns]: the act of power of resisting, opposing or withstanding.
So i walk into the gym and see some fellas doing standing side lateral raises. The spotter (A) stands behind the guy performing the move (B). (A) places his palms on (B)'s elbows and lifts the weight up for the first part of the exercise. As (A) completes the movement at the top, the weights fall to (B)'s sides almost instantly on the way down.
At the end of the set, (B) just MIGHT feel a burn in his shoulders. But guess what? By doing this he's not hitting it as much as he can if he used the right weight and; either do it himself or do proper negatives. What (B) is doing isn't training his shoulders, bro, he's training his GRIP, innit? Because that's all he's doing. Gripping the bloody weight and letting the spotter do the job for him. There's no resistance. There's no effort. Especially on the way down, if you're gonna use weights you cant handle. And this applies to all movements, not just raises.
I'm no stranger to negatives. I think they're really important to push the envelope. On certain sets and moves, when i'm close to failure, i'd cheat to get the weight up. But i'd go down real slow. Resistance is key. At least do it right and put the muscle to work. The pump from this would send me to heaven. Or hell, if you don't enjoy the burn.
- Trainwreck
So i walk into the gym and see some fellas doing standing side lateral raises. The spotter (A) stands behind the guy performing the move (B). (A) places his palms on (B)'s elbows and lifts the weight up for the first part of the exercise. As (A) completes the movement at the top, the weights fall to (B)'s sides almost instantly on the way down.
At the end of the set, (B) just MIGHT feel a burn in his shoulders. But guess what? By doing this he's not hitting it as much as he can if he used the right weight and; either do it himself or do proper negatives. What (B) is doing isn't training his shoulders, bro, he's training his GRIP, innit? Because that's all he's doing. Gripping the bloody weight and letting the spotter do the job for him. There's no resistance. There's no effort. Especially on the way down, if you're gonna use weights you cant handle. And this applies to all movements, not just raises.
I'm no stranger to negatives. I think they're really important to push the envelope. On certain sets and moves, when i'm close to failure, i'd cheat to get the weight up. But i'd go down real slow. Resistance is key. At least do it right and put the muscle to work. The pump from this would send me to heaven. Or hell, if you don't enjoy the burn.
- Trainwreck
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Mindless bodybuilders
Most of the times when Zeus and I hit the gym, we're slightly on the anti-social side. I met an old friend of mine (havent seen him for years) in the gym the other day. Went to say hi before starting out, and because he was getting ready for presses, i left him to it. He came occasionally to ask about what's happening, etc, but we never really got the chance to catch up.
Not that i didnt want to. I didnt mean no disrespect, i apologized when he left and told him we'd catch up another day. A time and place for everything. I just wanted to be with the weights. Or a catch up could wait til i was done.
If you're one of those i call the 'zombie lifters' (going through routines effortlessly), then you dont really have to worry about mental strength simply because, face it, you're not really lifting. Zombies just be passing time from one movement after another without breaking a sweat. A walk in the park. Get the fuck out.
Point in case: he ain't big is he?
To us, each set is a battle. Who'll win? The mindless weights? Not answering that one. It's for you. I don't lose.
We all know Arnold. Even back when he was training for Olympia, mind you, this was ages ago, he always placed emphasis on visualisation. This guy was revolutionary. He once said that you could even stimulate a pump just by using the mind. Thought it doesn't fucking mean you can slack off.
Apply that to your workouts. When we feed ourselves reasons and negative thoughts like 'oh i'm so damned tired today, i dont think i can do this'; right there; we've already lost more than half the battle. I found this out the hard way, and my figures on lifts used to fluctuate more often than not. I'm never going down that back alley again. If i really wanted to do it, i'd go all out. I'm not the guy looking at what the next person is pushing, or asking Zeus how his day had been. Wtf.
That's the reason why i don't seem too friendly during workouts. I don't mind all that, seriously, after i'm done. But during, i need all the focus, even more after an asshole-made, shit day at the nine to eight.
-Trainwreck
Not that i didnt want to. I didnt mean no disrespect, i apologized when he left and told him we'd catch up another day. A time and place for everything. I just wanted to be with the weights. Or a catch up could wait til i was done.
If you're one of those i call the 'zombie lifters' (going through routines effortlessly), then you dont really have to worry about mental strength simply because, face it, you're not really lifting. Zombies just be passing time from one movement after another without breaking a sweat. A walk in the park. Get the fuck out.
Point in case: he ain't big is he?To us, each set is a battle. Who'll win? The mindless weights? Not answering that one. It's for you. I don't lose.
We all know Arnold. Even back when he was training for Olympia, mind you, this was ages ago, he always placed emphasis on visualisation. This guy was revolutionary. He once said that you could even stimulate a pump just by using the mind. Thought it doesn't fucking mean you can slack off.
Apply that to your workouts. When we feed ourselves reasons and negative thoughts like 'oh i'm so damned tired today, i dont think i can do this'; right there; we've already lost more than half the battle. I found this out the hard way, and my figures on lifts used to fluctuate more often than not. I'm never going down that back alley again. If i really wanted to do it, i'd go all out. I'm not the guy looking at what the next person is pushing, or asking Zeus how his day had been. Wtf.
That's the reason why i don't seem too friendly during workouts. I don't mind all that, seriously, after i'm done. But during, i need all the focus, even more after an asshole-made, shit day at the nine to eight.
-Trainwreck
Thursday, September 3, 2009
The neglected series - Traps exercises
The trapezius muscle is, if i may say so, my most pride body part when it comes to my physique.
As a bodybuilder, whether i'm in a wifebeater, a suit, a shirt, whatever i'm in; my appearance is affected by my traps. I've always known from day 1 that i want mine extra large. For those who don't know which muscle i'm referring to (what?!), here's a look for ya.
Source: Wikipedia
Without upper traps you will not have complete upper body development. Why? Picture boulder-like shoulders tapering horizontally to the neck. 'Nuff said. Casual lifters and even some serious ones often neglect this muscle or feel it is adequately worked when performing other movements. That attitude won't get you anywhere; especially not animalistic, intimidating traps or a thick neck. And the opposite of a thick neck? I don't even have to answer that one.
Faber Castell
The best thing about the trapezius muscle is the simplicity of working it and the extreme pump if done right.
Method: When a teacher asks you a question you don't know the answer to and don't feel like giving a shit, you just shrug. That's right. Shrugs are the answer.
At the end of a back day routine, grab a couple of dumbbells or a barbell, load up on the weights and pump out the reps. Use weights heavy enough to feel the burn. If my description's too vague, it'll look like this.
Source: Animalpak
As grip might be a hindrance from loading up the weights and chalk might not be readily available, it might be useful to get one of these lifting straps.
-Trainwreck
As a bodybuilder, whether i'm in a wifebeater, a suit, a shirt, whatever i'm in; my appearance is affected by my traps. I've always known from day 1 that i want mine extra large. For those who don't know which muscle i'm referring to (what?!), here's a look for ya.
Source: Wikipedia
Without upper traps you will not have complete upper body development. Why? Picture boulder-like shoulders tapering horizontally to the neck. 'Nuff said. Casual lifters and even some serious ones often neglect this muscle or feel it is adequately worked when performing other movements. That attitude won't get you anywhere; especially not animalistic, intimidating traps or a thick neck. And the opposite of a thick neck? I don't even have to answer that one.
Faber Castell
The best thing about the trapezius muscle is the simplicity of working it and the extreme pump if done right.
Method: When a teacher asks you a question you don't know the answer to and don't feel like giving a shit, you just shrug. That's right. Shrugs are the answer.
At the end of a back day routine, grab a couple of dumbbells or a barbell, load up on the weights and pump out the reps. Use weights heavy enough to feel the burn. If my description's too vague, it'll look like this.
Source: Animalpak
As grip might be a hindrance from loading up the weights and chalk might not be readily available, it might be useful to get one of these lifting straps.
-Trainwreck
Monday, August 31, 2009
Training Journal - 29/08/09 - Chest & Biceps
As promised, our training journal:
Woke up at 10am. "Yes it's chest day!". Went to our favorite restaurant and ordered chicken rice, breast only. Being regulars, we always get extra chicken. We took our Animal Pak pills midway through our meal and then got back home by 11am. Changed clothes, prepared our protein shake and loaded up on Shock Therapy. Headed out and reached the gym at 11.45am.
First day back in the gym after so long. We took in the sight, psyched ourselves up. It's time to do this. Time to get hardcore. Time to step up the game. There was no room for fuck ups now.
Once again, and for the last time, i'll state the rules of how we do it, adding a few more to the list:
1. Always do a warm up set
2. The last rep is always the hardest in each working set
3. Each set, ideally, should be pyramiding upwards in weight and naturally less in reps
4. Keep strict form
Note: The workouts that I'm about to list below can be googled for more information.
Starting off with chest:
1. Incline bench press - 3 sets, pyramiding - 12 reps, 10 reps, 8 reps
2. Incline dumbbell flyes - 3 sets - 12 reps x3
3. Flat bench press - 3 sets, pyramiding - 12 reps, 10 reps, 8 reps
4. Cable crossovers - 3 sets, pyramiding - 12 reps, 10 reps, 8 reps
Next in line, biceps:
1. Wide grip barbell curls - 3 sets, pyramiding - 12 reps, 10 reps, 8 reps
2. Standing cable curls - 3 sets, pyramiding - 12 reps, 10 reps, 8 reps
3. Barbell hammer curls - 3 sets, pyramiding - 12 reps, 10 reps, 8 reps
We consume our protein shake immediately after lifting.
Our routines will change slightly from week to week. The purpose is to never let the body get accustomed to the same workout sets. It is a smart, evolving machine. Underestimating it will get you nowhere. Throwing in a surprise change in routine will leave it guessing, leading to better growth and progress.
Try this out. Let us know how it works for you.
-Zeus
Woke up at 10am. "Yes it's chest day!". Went to our favorite restaurant and ordered chicken rice, breast only. Being regulars, we always get extra chicken. We took our Animal Pak pills midway through our meal and then got back home by 11am. Changed clothes, prepared our protein shake and loaded up on Shock Therapy. Headed out and reached the gym at 11.45am.
First day back in the gym after so long. We took in the sight, psyched ourselves up. It's time to do this. Time to get hardcore. Time to step up the game. There was no room for fuck ups now.
Once again, and for the last time, i'll state the rules of how we do it, adding a few more to the list:
1. Always do a warm up set
2. The last rep is always the hardest in each working set
3. Each set, ideally, should be pyramiding upwards in weight and naturally less in reps
4. Keep strict form
Note: The workouts that I'm about to list below can be googled for more information.
Starting off with chest:
1. Incline bench press - 3 sets, pyramiding - 12 reps, 10 reps, 8 reps
2. Incline dumbbell flyes - 3 sets - 12 reps x3
3. Flat bench press - 3 sets, pyramiding - 12 reps, 10 reps, 8 reps
4. Cable crossovers - 3 sets, pyramiding - 12 reps, 10 reps, 8 reps
Next in line, biceps:
1. Wide grip barbell curls - 3 sets, pyramiding - 12 reps, 10 reps, 8 reps
2. Standing cable curls - 3 sets, pyramiding - 12 reps, 10 reps, 8 reps
3. Barbell hammer curls - 3 sets, pyramiding - 12 reps, 10 reps, 8 reps
We consume our protein shake immediately after lifting.
Our routines will change slightly from week to week. The purpose is to never let the body get accustomed to the same workout sets. It is a smart, evolving machine. Underestimating it will get you nowhere. Throwing in a surprise change in routine will leave it guessing, leading to better growth and progress.
Try this out. Let us know how it works for you.
-Zeus
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Types of People
I've come across all kinds. Here are the few regulars:
Type1: The sloth - the person who wishes he could get bigger and stronger by eating and sleeping. Favourite question: 'how do you do it?' and proceeds to reason it with bla,bla,bla, self comfort and lazy-ass attitude. You reap what you sow.
Type2: The has-been - the person who 'was there' a million years ago and talks about never really getting to 'done that.' News flash: 'Done that' never comes for us. Never 'done.'
Type3: The want-to - overlaying signs with type 1, this person prolly has a weight set at home and a membership somewhere fancy. Makes the journey every time a pig flies. The membership is a social conformity which needs to be made known. Throw a stone and you'll hit 5.
Type4: The poser - the person who likes to think he is a part of the game but performs flea-weight curls while looking to see if anyone's watching. Most are hoggers. Ends up with a tiny nipple for biceps but wears clothes 3 sizes too small. In many cases, rest of the physique is zero. The dirt in my eye every time i pass a 'health club'.
These are just some traits of each and if i listed them all, i'd be able to fill volumes.
- Trainwreck
Type1: The sloth - the person who wishes he could get bigger and stronger by eating and sleeping. Favourite question: 'how do you do it?' and proceeds to reason it with bla,bla,bla, self comfort and lazy-ass attitude. You reap what you sow.
Type2: The has-been - the person who 'was there' a million years ago and talks about never really getting to 'done that.' News flash: 'Done that' never comes for us. Never 'done.'
Type3: The want-to - overlaying signs with type 1, this person prolly has a weight set at home and a membership somewhere fancy. Makes the journey every time a pig flies. The membership is a social conformity which needs to be made known. Throw a stone and you'll hit 5.
Type4: The poser - the person who likes to think he is a part of the game but performs flea-weight curls while looking to see if anyone's watching. Most are hoggers. Ends up with a tiny nipple for biceps but wears clothes 3 sizes too small. In many cases, rest of the physique is zero. The dirt in my eye every time i pass a 'health club'.
These are just some traits of each and if i listed them all, i'd be able to fill volumes.
- Trainwreck
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
General Overview
When it comes to paying my dues in the weight room, I love and hate each and every workout, each set, each grind. That’s how it’s supposed to be. You torment yourself until you want to puke your guts out. The frenzy you inflict on your body after a mind numbing effort puts you in a state of nausea and you feel like blacking out. And yet at the same time, you know you can’t look at yourself in the mirror if you didn’t do it, if you didn’t face the weights. Personally, it haunts me…
It’s not really a good thing to have a favorite workout, but face the fact, you do have one. Don’t fucking lie to me because we all have our favorites. You may hit the weights everyday all gung-ho and hyped up but there will always be one day where you wake up and say to yourself “Fuck yes it’s [insert body part here] day!” For me, it’s chest. Tell us what is yours and why.
Trainwreck and I combine our chest training with biceps. Why? For these few reasons:
1. Time. We have careers. By doing 2 body parts a day, we can have more days to do other shit.
2. The push and pull concept. Chest = push, Biceps = pull. Combining the two targets a more extensive workout very efficiently.
One thing to note here is: We complete each set with the last rep being the hardest and pyramiding upwards in weight as we progress to the next set. If you’re not doing this, then you’re just going for a ride. Seriously, I see retards and pretty boys in fitness centers lifting like as if they’re going for a walk in the park. If you’re not feeling the pain, the burn, the agony, it’s not working. Should you be one of these people, stop now and go look at boy-band websites. Your presence here and in the weight room all over the world disgusts me.
So we’re on break this week after about 3 months of lifting. Yes, you need to take a break periodically, either a planned one or when your body tells you to. Not listening to your body is one of the biggest mistakes you can make. You will either make no progress or even worse, injure yourself. There are times when you’ll have to pack your ego and pride into a bag and shelve it for a while to recover or rest.
When we start again this Saturday, we plan to take our lifts to a whole different level. Yup, you heard me right. Even when you’ve reached a plateau, a pit stop, a break point, there is always a way to go beyond the ordinary. Use your breaks to ponder on improvement, don’t fucking waste the time mucking around like a pansy. The work never stops, remember that. In our case, we’ve now found a gym, a hardcore no-frills one, and got ourselves a new supplement, the Animal Pak. So in terms of supplement, we now have:
1. Universal Animal Pak – Consuming one pack immediately after last meal prior to workout on workout day and one pack immediately after breakfast the next day.
2. Universal Shock Therapy – Consuming one serving 30 minutes prior to workout.
3. UN Ultra Whey Pro / ON Whey Gold Standard – Consuming one serving during and/or after workout and another serving the next day (between meals or before sleep).
As for our routine, I’ll cross the bridge when we get to it. Stay tuned…
-Zeus
It’s not really a good thing to have a favorite workout, but face the fact, you do have one. Don’t fucking lie to me because we all have our favorites. You may hit the weights everyday all gung-ho and hyped up but there will always be one day where you wake up and say to yourself “Fuck yes it’s [insert body part here] day!” For me, it’s chest. Tell us what is yours and why.
Trainwreck and I combine our chest training with biceps. Why? For these few reasons:
1. Time. We have careers. By doing 2 body parts a day, we can have more days to do other shit.
2. The push and pull concept. Chest = push, Biceps = pull. Combining the two targets a more extensive workout very efficiently.
One thing to note here is: We complete each set with the last rep being the hardest and pyramiding upwards in weight as we progress to the next set. If you’re not doing this, then you’re just going for a ride. Seriously, I see retards and pretty boys in fitness centers lifting like as if they’re going for a walk in the park. If you’re not feeling the pain, the burn, the agony, it’s not working. Should you be one of these people, stop now and go look at boy-band websites. Your presence here and in the weight room all over the world disgusts me.
So we’re on break this week after about 3 months of lifting. Yes, you need to take a break periodically, either a planned one or when your body tells you to. Not listening to your body is one of the biggest mistakes you can make. You will either make no progress or even worse, injure yourself. There are times when you’ll have to pack your ego and pride into a bag and shelve it for a while to recover or rest.
When we start again this Saturday, we plan to take our lifts to a whole different level. Yup, you heard me right. Even when you’ve reached a plateau, a pit stop, a break point, there is always a way to go beyond the ordinary. Use your breaks to ponder on improvement, don’t fucking waste the time mucking around like a pansy. The work never stops, remember that. In our case, we’ve now found a gym, a hardcore no-frills one, and got ourselves a new supplement, the Animal Pak. So in terms of supplement, we now have:
1. Universal Animal Pak – Consuming one pack immediately after last meal prior to workout on workout day and one pack immediately after breakfast the next day.
2. Universal Shock Therapy – Consuming one serving 30 minutes prior to workout.
3. UN Ultra Whey Pro / ON Whey Gold Standard – Consuming one serving during and/or after workout and another serving the next day (between meals or before sleep).
As for our routine, I’ll cross the bridge when we get to it. Stay tuned…
-Zeus
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
MMA workout
Have you seen mixed martial artists go at it? Sure, in a street brawl, all gloves are OFF and anything flies, but even with rules in place these guys are monsters in the ring, from fuck-you-up techniques to through-the-roof conditioning. When it comes to training, they are the epitome of hardcore.
Sit through this video of Wanderlei "The Axe Murderer" Silva - one of my favourites to watch - in training and tell us what you think. Mad respect for this mutha. Do you think you'd survive the routine?
Talk about balls to the wall.
-Trainwreck
Sit through this video of Wanderlei "The Axe Murderer" Silva - one of my favourites to watch - in training and tell us what you think. Mad respect for this mutha. Do you think you'd survive the routine?
Talk about balls to the wall.
-Trainwreck
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Being a Freak
Yes, I am a freak. I am proud to be a freak. I want to to be a freak. Every bit of my soul wants to be a bigger, stronger freak. Did i imagine myself being one before i did my first lift? No. So what was it that made me want to become this 'thing'?
Addiction.
In so many ways, it is addiction that fuels my sanity to drive my physique to insanity. I am addicted to the pump i feel each time i lift. I am addicted to the tearing, aching pain. I am addicted to the rush and adrenaline from my heart pounding so hard as if it was going to go into cardiac arrest. I am addicted to the animal inside of me that tears through my sane self each and every time i go ballistic with crazy heavy weights. I am addicted to staring at myself in the mirror, looking like a savage beast, hungry for more kills...
This is unlike any other addiction. Not everyone can contain this addiction or pull through it. It's not as easy as getting into it and staying hooked because the high does not come without pain, immediate and sometimes impossible pain. There are many times when i had to wage war with myself, to suppress the relentless begging for freedom from the demons of pain. But why do i still do it? Why put myself through the test of steel? Because time and time again, i am reborn after each grueling battle, emerging a freak that has torn through the weak, mortal flesh. Because i come out different, forged from steel, from the anatomic foundry, putting yuppies to shame at the mere presence of me.
So, please move the fuck out of my way while i pass and leave you standing puny in my shadow.
-Zeus
Addiction.
In so many ways, it is addiction that fuels my sanity to drive my physique to insanity. I am addicted to the pump i feel each time i lift. I am addicted to the tearing, aching pain. I am addicted to the rush and adrenaline from my heart pounding so hard as if it was going to go into cardiac arrest. I am addicted to the animal inside of me that tears through my sane self each and every time i go ballistic with crazy heavy weights. I am addicted to staring at myself in the mirror, looking like a savage beast, hungry for more kills...
This is unlike any other addiction. Not everyone can contain this addiction or pull through it. It's not as easy as getting into it and staying hooked because the high does not come without pain, immediate and sometimes impossible pain. There are many times when i had to wage war with myself, to suppress the relentless begging for freedom from the demons of pain. But why do i still do it? Why put myself through the test of steel? Because time and time again, i am reborn after each grueling battle, emerging a freak that has torn through the weak, mortal flesh. Because i come out different, forged from steel, from the anatomic foundry, putting yuppies to shame at the mere presence of me.
So, please move the fuck out of my way while i pass and leave you standing puny in my shadow.
-Zeus
Mental foreplay
Run with me on this one. Rewind your thoughts to your bench. Be it in your garage, in your weight room, in your gym, wherever. Once you're done setting it all up; once you've loaded the weights, once you've done your warm-ups, you get into position.
Lying back, inhaling deep breathes, ribcage heaving to your tattoo, mentally readying yourself. Perhaps music in your head. You reach out and get a good grip.
Now, personally, the grip is the most important stage of all. Once i've grabbed the bar, there's no turning back. It's not unlike a commitment to the weights i've decided on. I feel like a father who's promised his kids a trip to Disneyland and here i am keeping my word.
It's not ego at play. My formula is a fucked up concoction of pride, belief and self-awareness.
Coursing through my head at this point would be a variety of ingredients, among others, but not limited to:
10kg Frustrations,
40kg Ambitions,
5kg Pride (knowing the inability of most mortals to perform at this level),
60kg Love (for the game),
20kg Self motivation,
Misc. Add whatever the fuck spices you need, eg. mint leaves, supplements (optional, not necessary)
Stuff everything in the shaker you call your brain, mix well and move weights. Rep after rep.
Result: The right frame of mind to move the piece of shit trying it's best to crush me. Consume on a constant timetable, with appropriate diet and lifestyle.
What runs through your mind the split second before you lift?
-Trainwreck
Lying back, inhaling deep breathes, ribcage heaving to your tattoo, mentally readying yourself. Perhaps music in your head. You reach out and get a good grip.
Now, personally, the grip is the most important stage of all. Once i've grabbed the bar, there's no turning back. It's not unlike a commitment to the weights i've decided on. I feel like a father who's promised his kids a trip to Disneyland and here i am keeping my word.
It's not ego at play. My formula is a fucked up concoction of pride, belief and self-awareness.
Coursing through my head at this point would be a variety of ingredients, among others, but not limited to:
10kg Frustrations,
40kg Ambitions,
5kg Pride (knowing the inability of most mortals to perform at this level),
60kg Love (for the game),
20kg Self motivation,
Misc. Add whatever the fuck spices you need, eg. mint leaves, supplements (optional, not necessary)
Stuff everything in the shaker you call your brain, mix well and move weights. Rep after rep.
Result: The right frame of mind to move the piece of shit trying it's best to crush me. Consume on a constant timetable, with appropriate diet and lifestyle.
What runs through your mind the split second before you lift?
-Trainwreck
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Stayin motivated
Motives change. From making a stand for myself when it really mattered, my strong yearn to stay in the game has evolved with the motions of the hands of time.
Everything feels like an endless cycle. Day in day out. Like a long ass drawl. The days of the weeks never change. Same seven shitty ones. I'm bored out of my fucking mind by their names. By day i would play my part as a corporate slave in this drama-filled cast. Answerable to a bunch of depressants who do not have a clue about my psychotic schizophrenic behaviour by night.
This, my friends, is why i relish doing my time in the weights room.
Here, i am myself in the purest. The adrenaline that comes with the change in me. The pushing of limits. Horizons only those like us would dream of. The lifting in scales of human bodies. The thumping sound of the heart.
Here, wealth means jack shit and the corporate ladder means fuck all.
This is where i quench my addiction, fueled by all the shit thrown by the world, buried deep inside from the eyes of civilization; taken to the asylum with clenched fists, heavy straps, heaves with lifts and the clinking of steel on steel.
This is how i stay motivated. And i ain't worried about running out of diesel.
-Trainwreck
Everything feels like an endless cycle. Day in day out. Like a long ass drawl. The days of the weeks never change. Same seven shitty ones. I'm bored out of my fucking mind by their names. By day i would play my part as a corporate slave in this drama-filled cast. Answerable to a bunch of depressants who do not have a clue about my psychotic schizophrenic behaviour by night.
This, my friends, is why i relish doing my time in the weights room.
Here, i am myself in the purest. The adrenaline that comes with the change in me. The pushing of limits. Horizons only those like us would dream of. The lifting in scales of human bodies. The thumping sound of the heart.
Here, wealth means jack shit and the corporate ladder means fuck all.
This is where i quench my addiction, fueled by all the shit thrown by the world, buried deep inside from the eyes of civilization; taken to the asylum with clenched fists, heavy straps, heaves with lifts and the clinking of steel on steel.
This is how i stay motivated. And i ain't worried about running out of diesel.
-Trainwreck
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Post realization
A small shoplot on the 3rd floor tucked away in the corner of Sunway. Dust afloat. Heat fumes so intense they almost seem visible to the naked eyes. Climbing up the stairs to the gym, our first gym, sometimes felt like taking the torturous road to the gallows. Gallows, I still recall that being a word often passing through my mind...
It was back when I worked part time whilst studying. The so-called themed shopping mall served nothing more to me than a pool of opportunity to earn some pocket money. It felt great at that time, being able to earn what seemed like loose change to most who shopped at the mall but I didn't really care. I was working alongside my brother and friends, memories cherished very fondly until today. With the amount I earned, I was barely able to buy a curl bar, some weights and was introduced to the world of supplements. Supplement stores suddenly made more sense to me on their existence and each time I strolled by, I could see the products glittering on the shelves like gold from the side of my eyes, calling out to me, luring me. It felt, probably, like what a girl would feel when she pass by a shoe shop. "I want to try everything". Maybe that is the closest I would ever come to understanding 'what women want'. This, in turn, brought light and new meaning to the words 'nutrition' and 'diet'. Thank God for the internet for it aided, in a lot of ways, my research and hunger for knowledge.
The gym. It was our place of solitude. A temple. A foundry. An institution. The place where the body was further put to test by means of grit, determination and steel. It was a luxury Trainwreck and I could afford. Mind you, the monthly payment was NOWHERE near what pencil-neck yuppies are paying the sneering 'all-glamorous' fitness centres to maintain their scrawny physique. Sauna? Outer Space Treadmills? NASA-made Machines? River of 100plus? Bullshit. We didn't need that. Those are for the weak. Stepping into our gym was like making an oath each and every time we entered. No fucking around was it. If you're not gonna go all out, then get the fuck out and go home. You want to know what is hardcore? Rusty and basic equipments. Wall fans. Torn carpeted floor. Sweat and heat laced air. That is hardcore. We were standing in the midst of people who knew what they wanted: To go beyond the limit.
We joined the brotherhood. Of Steel. Of Pump. And between Trainwreck and myself, Of Blood.
-Zeus
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Way back when
It was back in 2001. Once upon a time an athlete, i evolved into a short stumpy kid with signs of developing man-boobs. Sneers and sarcasm was the usual at school. One fine day after a particular remark from a dick sucking twiggie, i decided that i could'nt let it continue. I won't allow myself to be that kid.
Back then we've had dumbbells at home for ages but my relationship with them involved me watching my brother workout and then a curl or two every once the moon is blue. We had also added a curl bar and what now seems an insignificant amount of weights to our collection. Although i had not begun to use them, i always thought i could hear them. Call me a hypocritical religious pig but it's not unlike a priests' calling i suppose. It was just a matter of time. And that time had come. I decided to get off my lazy ass to join the brotherhood.
With some guidance, and sets of rows, presses and curls later, i knew i'd gotten stuck in a love affair. More like a lust affair. A greed for what I felt: the blood rush, the tightness in my forearms, the pump. I'd never felt anything like this. And it definitely trounced beating off. Mind you, we did not know anything about supplements back then, and even if we had, we couldn't have afforded it (not like that's changed too much).
I'd certainly love to thank those guys from school for being my catalyst with a good beatdown if i ever meet them again.
That's my story. What's yours?
-Trainwreck
Back then we've had dumbbells at home for ages but my relationship with them involved me watching my brother workout and then a curl or two every once the moon is blue. We had also added a curl bar and what now seems an insignificant amount of weights to our collection. Although i had not begun to use them, i always thought i could hear them. Call me a hypocritical religious pig but it's not unlike a priests' calling i suppose. It was just a matter of time. And that time had come. I decided to get off my lazy ass to join the brotherhood.
With some guidance, and sets of rows, presses and curls later, i knew i'd gotten stuck in a love affair. More like a lust affair. A greed for what I felt: the blood rush, the tightness in my forearms, the pump. I'd never felt anything like this. And it definitely trounced beating off. Mind you, we did not know anything about supplements back then, and even if we had, we couldn't have afforded it (not like that's changed too much).
I'd certainly love to thank those guys from school for being my catalyst with a good beatdown if i ever meet them again.
That's my story. What's yours?
-Trainwreck
How it all started...
Another day in the office. What's new? Nothing, as usual. Same shit, different day, that's what I say. At this point, the only motivating factors are the fact that I have my packed food ready for another boost of much needed protein and the all-glorious moment of going home. With all the shit occupying my desk like thriving fungus, I find myself yearning and at the same time dreading for the workout that is waiting for me when I step into the house later. It is back day, yes, the bittersweet sigh that is no more alien to me after all these years. While I'm sitting here with an orgy of thoughts grinding all at once in my head, I can't help but remember how the flare was ignited many years ago...
It was a dull and boring evening spent in a shopping mall located in Bangsar. My parents dropped my brothers and I off, quite hesitantly, as they went off to their friends' place for a meeting. As vividly as I recall the moment, there are much that now appear to be vague. It is, after all, a very long time ago. If i were to give an estimation, I'd say at least 12 years ago. Though it is no doubt an important strand of memory as not only did the events on that particular night made me what I am today, it was also then that I bought one of the first things with my own money, as measely the amount was. Life was hard, money was scarce. I was a boy with a few notes tucked neatly in my wallet with a big smile as if they were the crown jewels of England. It took what felt like ages to reached that sum, a figure I can no longer recall.
Anyway, my brothers and I took to walking around the mall. Life lessons taught us well in not to desire things we could not afford. Window shopping was almost second nature so our parents knew that we would be fine on our own. After what seemed like an eternity, we stumbled upon a sporting goods store and it was then and there that I saw it. A pair of green dumbbells. They looked like works of art in the DISCOUNT section. It was like having Monalisa in a shady wet market. I knew at that moment, coupled with all the reasons an intent young boy could conjur, that I just had to have it! Reasons that I chanted to my brothers and with much success, managed to get them on my side of my personal guilt war and the impending one with my parents. I made the payment, we jumped in success, I was left broke, but we felt like millionaires.
My parents were dubious when we claimed that we would use it for a very long time. At that point, it was more of a shield conjured up for an incoming verbal attack but much to our surprise, nothing of the sort happened. But long and behold, our very first dumbbell. The stepping stone. The flint. The spark. The beginning...
-Zeus
It was a dull and boring evening spent in a shopping mall located in Bangsar. My parents dropped my brothers and I off, quite hesitantly, as they went off to their friends' place for a meeting. As vividly as I recall the moment, there are much that now appear to be vague. It is, after all, a very long time ago. If i were to give an estimation, I'd say at least 12 years ago. Though it is no doubt an important strand of memory as not only did the events on that particular night made me what I am today, it was also then that I bought one of the first things with my own money, as measely the amount was. Life was hard, money was scarce. I was a boy with a few notes tucked neatly in my wallet with a big smile as if they were the crown jewels of England. It took what felt like ages to reached that sum, a figure I can no longer recall.
Anyway, my brothers and I took to walking around the mall. Life lessons taught us well in not to desire things we could not afford. Window shopping was almost second nature so our parents knew that we would be fine on our own. After what seemed like an eternity, we stumbled upon a sporting goods store and it was then and there that I saw it. A pair of green dumbbells. They looked like works of art in the DISCOUNT section. It was like having Monalisa in a shady wet market. I knew at that moment, coupled with all the reasons an intent young boy could conjur, that I just had to have it! Reasons that I chanted to my brothers and with much success, managed to get them on my side of my personal guilt war and the impending one with my parents. I made the payment, we jumped in success, I was left broke, but we felt like millionaires.
My parents were dubious when we claimed that we would use it for a very long time. At that point, it was more of a shield conjured up for an incoming verbal attack but much to our surprise, nothing of the sort happened. But long and behold, our very first dumbbell. The stepping stone. The flint. The spark. The beginning...
-Zeus
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