Taking the garbage out, with my eyes glued to the pavement, side to side I walk in silence as training hunches over my back like a monster monkey constantly bringing up the past. I'm not going to write bullshit, I just won't. It's fucken freezing out here, and where the hell are all the damn people? Just me I guess, just like that scary silence while you stand on the platform. Eyes piercing through your soul like wolves about to set the dinner table. Camera flashes like you're behind the fence at the zoo, but this morning nothing.... just another schmuck waving to the first person I see walking their five pound dog. Peeing with one hand behind my head, itching and itching while the traffic jam thoughts turn my veins green, cutting off all circulation to my brain. Face in the dirt while my eyes turn into a mud hole of no real direction. Writer's block is what I speak of, a fucken curse that has entered my daily love affair with the Orchestra of pain and suffering. I'm back now, I hope you have forgiven me for reposting some older blogs, blogs that I should add, are some of my favorite that I personally like to read over before training. Some adding kilos, and some taking away. Train is all I do, I swear. It's like a pasta dish that never seems to have a bottom, just more pasta.
My body hurts, and my mind pinches in pain like a small paper cut that lingers with you for days among days. Here is the twist, my numbers are going up, and my training is through the roof right now. I'm faster and stronger than I have ever been, more confident, more consistent, more experienced. What does this so called great news mean? Well I will tell yea, it means I'm fucked. It means I'm stuck training for many more years beating myself up like a rodeo clown. Don't get it confused now, I love it. I'll die doing this. I'm a gladiator that cannot be put down. A freak that breaths chalk and spits out PR's. Snap this gold medal off my neck and raise it high for all to see, now yell with everything you have until the judges throw you off stage. I work too hard to leave the platform. I'll stand 'til they throw rocks and boo me off stage, an image that bounces back and forth in my head as I take the garbage out. Side to side I walk in the dark cold nights, swearing I am seeing things in the trees. I'm fast, but not fast enough to run from whatever the hell lays behind those woods that seem to be gaining closer and closer around my house.
Bar path is back, just like visiting your home town you grew up in. Everything seems back not forward. Back home the streets are filed with candy bars that me and my friends have stolen from our past years of mayhem. Old drug dealers pass me in the streets while the Friday night lights shine over my late night outings full off familiar smells and memories. For all those who doubted me and turned their backs on me, now look, can you see my back as I fly over the sky on my mongoose bird, collecting freedom keys that provide "do what I want and live how I want" gates piled behind vaults that open only with a password.
Hook grip is a must for any lifter, this is why I believe that taping your thumbs to keep them fresh is very important, no matter how big or small an athlete's hands are. I thought about the importance of a hook grip while taking out the trash early yesterday morning...... I guess this blog is filled to the rafters with my garbage walking thoughts. I am breaking down the walls of keyboard block, and typing anything that comes to mind, almost like entering training with a slight injury, don't think and hopefully your always confused body will forget such things even exist. More coffee helps as well. I want to add that I truly believe in tying your shoes as tight as possible and not leaving any room for wiggle aka lack of support. I think this is why my calf has been in suffering lately, my Adidas don't lace as tight as I would like them to, leaving my ankle too much room. I have corrected this problem by drilling another loop hole creating more support. Plus I have started to tape the center of my shoes for even more support aka more athletic feeling.
Thank you Shankle, for the song you showed me for the writing of this all over the place garbage walk through blog. It has helped me break through the curse of writer's block. I have so much to say, you would think this would never happen to me. My next blog should be much more organized as I will type across from the Lion's den aka the lion killer himself...... Darth Vader the weightlifter. Goodnight and it feels good to be back at the long table of tear drinking.
The latest Team MDUSA video.
Thank you CrossFit Florian for hosting the 20th Attitude Nation Cert! It was great meeting you all, and congrats to all your gym's success. Salute.
A freak athlete, better kid, and an unbelievable superman pull! Andrew Jester was the first athlete I ever coached, and seeing him continue his success on the Cal Strength team puts a big smile on my face. I miss you Andrew, and I'll be rooting you on when you compete in the Olympics! TAKE NOTES PEOPLE!
Last but not least, I don't know if you guys saw this video, but this is my very good friend and ex-teammate Jared Enderton imitating some lifters including myself. it's too funny.