This blog, which has been temporarily dormant, is going to be kick-started and shoved into rush-hour traffic through the use of a rant. Deal with it.
I listen to metal when I get under heavy weights. It jacks my test (that's testosterone) and make my blood boil. Thoughts of schoolyard bullies pushing me around and calling me names, times where I got picked last, didn't have the confidence to ask out the girl, pushed down, kicked in the head, had my fly down, got my teeth knocked out and other embarrassing moments from my past come exploding to the frontal lobe where I take all possible hatred, anger, and revenge filled energy and apply it liberally to the bar being moved. It fucking rocks when that bar does what I tell it to. The high is unparalleled. I would recommend it if your life isn't 100% KICK-ASS.
However, with great weightlifting comes great responsibility. Constantly dropping iron and bumpers from the rack or higher has my neighbors all in a hissy-fit. I can understand. They don't realize the culture of getting stronger and the untapped resource that lies within all of us. They don't attack weights until, palms resembling wet tissue thats been through a cheese grater, that one last effort solidifies a new PR. Too bad for them.
Go crush a pound of bacon, a dozen eggs, 3 avocado's and liter of black coffee. Use the caffeine to do something worthwhile today. At the very least, face a fear and show it who's boss.
See you soon.
