Iron and Steel
Alright gang,
this is amazing. I can't believe it's free, so far. I'm hoping blogging lets me stay in touch with people I haven't seen in years, hear more about their lives than I ever could just calling them. Kudos to scooter for getting me set up. I don't know if I'll change the description (it sounds awfully imperial: Troy Speaks!) but I think this idea rocks. I teach English online and I'm so used to communicating like this, but the classroom, even the virtual classroom, has its limitations.
Now I just need to get connected to those people I hope will read my babble, boggle, blog, whatever. This is much better than writing reviews at Amazon.
Right now I have a lot of things to talk about: the ridiculous war in Iraq, school ending, life in the mountains, what I've been reading and what films I've been watching, but first things first.
I never lifted weights before. Oh, I'd tried it a few times but never enough to even say I had one real work out over the years. When the guys at my martial arts school in town (sadly, now no longer a school) brought in two smith machines I was hooked. Those are machines that let you do the basic exercises without really knowing very much. One of the guys in my gym was a personal trainer, or had just become one, and so I tried lifting. And I put the same intensity into the weights I had learned you have to put into martial arts. To be even a mediocre martial artist takes tremendous energy exertion; lots of anaerobic work, lots of getting hit and learning timing and patience and rigorous technique. Well, I could pose in front of a mirror and do kicks, but I'm not talking about that. I spent a year with Danny Inosanto when I was 20, three hard years with Daniel Sullivan, one of his full instructors, around 30, and then was doing karate up here with a very tough sensei (and good friend; sad he's gone). So weights were just another way to push my body.
It's cold up here in the winter. Below freezing some days, near it most days. And the gym we worked out in, just a little industrial building with a concrete floor and cracks in the walls, was not heated in the daytime when I went in to lift. So it was very cold. We'd wear sweats, fleece jackets, and ski hats pulled down until we got some warmth going. And there was no mirror posing time. It was superset lift. Meaning do one set and then do another right away. That was the only thing I had been taught, so I did it.
And did it ever feel good. I can't describe it. It's like how I feel after I scuba dive. That same restive, secure, calm, depleted sense, feelings I rarely have at other times. Maybe it's all the endorphins or the emotional release or the hormones dumping into the blood; I don't know or care, really. It just felt and feels great.
So when the gym closed just a couple months later, I joined this actual, fitness gym about twenty minues down the hill. About the beginning of February. And then I began to really lift.
I didn't know anything, so I read, a lot, almost all online. I discovered the Blonde Bomber, Dave Draper, and his killer website Iron Online. Straight talk from a fine person and poet. I began drinking protein powder and eating througout the day and lifting hard. At first I would get so sore it was a disability. It would take me a full minute to walk down one flight of stairs my legs hurt so bad. When my legs were that sore, I mean raging sore, and I'd work my arms out, say, it was scary sometimes trying to get off the couch. But I stuck with it, and the soreness has decreased by more than half.
To gain muscle, you have to gain weight, and I did. My body started to change, but my stomach, which was about at its 34 inch capacity when I began, grew a bit too. Now I'm trying to do what's called cutting; or in laymen's terms, lose some of my belly. I can't afford all new pants. I think that's why weight lifters were those loose waisted sweats so much: they can wear them when they're bulked or cut. Anyway, I just want to lose a couple inches, and then it's back to eating big and lifting heavy.
I'm still pushing the steel, though. It feels very different with less calories going in, but still wonderful. Very therapeutic. I'm almost 40, and I'm doing this as much for inner growth as outer. There's something very meditative about the steel. It's like surfing is for some people I think. As Vince Gironda said, 'there is joy on the gym floor.' I've found that to be true. I love the iron. At least for now. With no martial arts going on, why not lash the face of age and press on, feel young, stay young longer, don't let my muscle fiber drop off my body as it does without work as I age.
Well, this is a good enough place to start. I'm one of those who likes to hear himself write, and I have a lot to say. This is like journalling but with an audience. Very nice. Very beautiful.
this is amazing. I can't believe it's free, so far. I'm hoping blogging lets me stay in touch with people I haven't seen in years, hear more about their lives than I ever could just calling them. Kudos to scooter for getting me set up. I don't know if I'll change the description (it sounds awfully imperial: Troy Speaks!) but I think this idea rocks. I teach English online and I'm so used to communicating like this, but the classroom, even the virtual classroom, has its limitations.
Now I just need to get connected to those people I hope will read my babble, boggle, blog, whatever. This is much better than writing reviews at Amazon.
Right now I have a lot of things to talk about: the ridiculous war in Iraq, school ending, life in the mountains, what I've been reading and what films I've been watching, but first things first.
I never lifted weights before. Oh, I'd tried it a few times but never enough to even say I had one real work out over the years. When the guys at my martial arts school in town (sadly, now no longer a school) brought in two smith machines I was hooked. Those are machines that let you do the basic exercises without really knowing very much. One of the guys in my gym was a personal trainer, or had just become one, and so I tried lifting. And I put the same intensity into the weights I had learned you have to put into martial arts. To be even a mediocre martial artist takes tremendous energy exertion; lots of anaerobic work, lots of getting hit and learning timing and patience and rigorous technique. Well, I could pose in front of a mirror and do kicks, but I'm not talking about that. I spent a year with Danny Inosanto when I was 20, three hard years with Daniel Sullivan, one of his full instructors, around 30, and then was doing karate up here with a very tough sensei (and good friend; sad he's gone). So weights were just another way to push my body.
It's cold up here in the winter. Below freezing some days, near it most days. And the gym we worked out in, just a little industrial building with a concrete floor and cracks in the walls, was not heated in the daytime when I went in to lift. So it was very cold. We'd wear sweats, fleece jackets, and ski hats pulled down until we got some warmth going. And there was no mirror posing time. It was superset lift. Meaning do one set and then do another right away. That was the only thing I had been taught, so I did it.
And did it ever feel good. I can't describe it. It's like how I feel after I scuba dive. That same restive, secure, calm, depleted sense, feelings I rarely have at other times. Maybe it's all the endorphins or the emotional release or the hormones dumping into the blood; I don't know or care, really. It just felt and feels great.
So when the gym closed just a couple months later, I joined this actual, fitness gym about twenty minues down the hill. About the beginning of February. And then I began to really lift.
I didn't know anything, so I read, a lot, almost all online. I discovered the Blonde Bomber, Dave Draper, and his killer website Iron Online. Straight talk from a fine person and poet. I began drinking protein powder and eating througout the day and lifting hard. At first I would get so sore it was a disability. It would take me a full minute to walk down one flight of stairs my legs hurt so bad. When my legs were that sore, I mean raging sore, and I'd work my arms out, say, it was scary sometimes trying to get off the couch. But I stuck with it, and the soreness has decreased by more than half.
To gain muscle, you have to gain weight, and I did. My body started to change, but my stomach, which was about at its 34 inch capacity when I began, grew a bit too. Now I'm trying to do what's called cutting; or in laymen's terms, lose some of my belly. I can't afford all new pants. I think that's why weight lifters were those loose waisted sweats so much: they can wear them when they're bulked or cut. Anyway, I just want to lose a couple inches, and then it's back to eating big and lifting heavy.
I'm still pushing the steel, though. It feels very different with less calories going in, but still wonderful. Very therapeutic. I'm almost 40, and I'm doing this as much for inner growth as outer. There's something very meditative about the steel. It's like surfing is for some people I think. As Vince Gironda said, 'there is joy on the gym floor.' I've found that to be true. I love the iron. At least for now. With no martial arts going on, why not lash the face of age and press on, feel young, stay young longer, don't let my muscle fiber drop off my body as it does without work as I age.
Well, this is a good enough place to start. I'm one of those who likes to hear himself write, and I have a lot to say. This is like journalling but with an audience. Very nice. Very beautiful.
Comments
You are the king! Welcome to blogland! I completely agreee with everything you said about it - what a crazy, wild, almost too good to be true kind of thing blogging is. The ability to journal in a public forum, with the capacity for input, is too, too cool. Ian's blogsite is http://ironsulfide.blogspot.com. If you don't have it bookmarked, Romy's blog is at http://romaryka.lumania.com, and do you remember Dave Trigueros, the guy from Nicaragua who led (and still leads) worship at Bethany? I found his at http://www.colorsoflongbeach.blogspot.com . Finally, do you remember a friend of Ian's named Tim Smith? Not so sure you knew the dude. Anyway, he's a pastor now, and and pretty cool guy, too (he was the first person to post a comment on my blog). His address is http://homepage.mac.com/outofthesilent/blog/ . This thing is so awesome, it's nearly addictive - though dare I say an addiction worth having for once.
I'm bookmarking your site, and plan on reading it as often as you update. Feel free to link me on yours if you'd like. I haven't figured out a way to set up a list of links like on Romy's page, but I figure the best thing to do would be to do what Ian did and simply make a posting of all the blogs you read, and post it there. I'll do the same.
Scott
Many thanks for the links. I've looked at all those blogs and dig.
And last name? I'm not hiding; I've already said where I work. But for some reason...'I'm Troy' just rings true as it is. Thanks for checking out my stuff Tim. Your site is inspirational to me.
t