inspiration

[Lucas]

Henry Rollins Lifting Story

For those that like Rollins, here is how it all began...

I believe that the definition of definition is reinvention. To not be
like you parents. To not be like your friends. To be yourself.
Completely.

When I was young I had no sense of myself. All I was, was a product of
all the fear and humiliation I suffered. Fear of my parents. The
humiliation of teachers calling me "garbage can" and telling me I'd be
mowing lawns for a living. And the very real terror of my fellow
students. I was threatened and beaten up for the color of my skin and
my size. I was skinny and clumsy, and when others would tease me I
didn't run home crying, wondering why. I knew all too well. I was
there to be antagonized. In sports I was laughed at. A spaz. I was
pretty good at boxing but only because the rage that filled my every
waking moment made me wild and unpredictable. I fought with some
strange fury. The other boys thought I was crazy.

I hated myself all the time. As stupid at it seems now, I wanted to
talk like them, dress like them, carry myself with the ease of knowing
that I wasn't going to get pounded in the hallway between classes.

Years passed and I learned to keep it all inside. I only talked to a
few boys in my grade. Other losers. Some of them are to this day the
greatest people I have ever known. Hang out with a guy who has had his
head flushed down a toilet a few times, treat him with respect, and
you'll find a faithful friend forever. But even with friends, school
sucked. Teachers gave me hard time. I didn't think much of them
either.

Then came Mr. Pepperman, my adviser. He was a powerfully built Vietnam
veteran, and he was scary. No one ever talked out of turn in his class.
Once one kid did and Mr. P. lifted him off the ground and pinned him to
the blackboard.

Mr. P. could see that I was in bad shape, and one Friday in October he
asked me if I had ever worked out with weights. I told him no. He told
me that I was going to take some of the money that I had saved and buy a
hundred-pound set of weights at Sears. As I left his office, I started
to think of things I would say to him on Monday when he asked about the
weights that I was not going to buy. Still, it made me feel special.
My father never really got that close to caring. On Saturday I bought
the weights, but I couldn't even drag them to my mom's car. An
attendant laughed at me as he put them on a dolly.

Monday came and I was called into Mr. P.'s office after school. He said
that he was going to show me how to work out. He was going to put me on
a program and start hitting me in the solar plexus in the hallway when I
wasn't looking. When I could take the punch we would know that we were
getting somewhere. At no time was I to look at myself in the mirror or
tell anyone at school what I was doing.

In the gym he showed me ten basic exercises. I paid more attention than
I ever did in any of my classes. I didn't want to blow it. I went home
that night and started right in. Weeks passed, and every once in a
while Mr. P. would give me a shot and drop me in the hallway, sending my
books flying. The other students didn't know what to think. More weeks
passed, and I was steadily adding new weights to the bar. I could sense
the power inside my body growing. I could feel it.

Right before Christmas break I was walking to class, and from out of
nowhere Mr. Pepperman appeared and gave me a shot in the chest. I
laughed and kept going. He said I could look at myself now. I got home
and ran to the bathroom and pulled off my shirt. I saw a body, not just
the shell that housed my stomach and my heart. My biceps bulged. My
chest had definition. I felt strong. It was the first time I can
remember having a sense of myself. I had done something and no one
could ever take it away. You couldn't say shit to me.

It took me years to fully appreciate the value of the lessons I have
learned from the Iron. I used to think that it was my adversary, that I
was trying to lift that which does not want to be lifted. I was wrong.
When the Iron doesn't want to come off the mat, it's the kindest thing
it can do for you. If it flew up and went through the ceiling, it
wouldn't teach you anything. That's the way the Iron talks to you. It
tells you that the material you work with is that which you will come to
resemble. That which you work against will always work against you.

It wasn't until my late twenties that I learned that by working out I
had given myself a great gift. I learned that nothing good comes
without work and a ceratin amount of pain. When I finish a set that
leaves me shaking, I know more about myself. When something gets bad, I
know it can't be as bad as that workout.

I used to fight the pain, but recently this became clear to me: pain is
not my enemy; it is my call to greatness. But when dealing with the
Iron, one must be careful to interpret the pain correctly. Most
injuries involving the Iron come from ego. I once spent a few weeks
lifting weight that my body wasn't ready for and spent a few months not
picking up anything heavier than a fork. Try to lift what you're not
prepared to and the Iron will teach you a little lesson in restraint and
self-control.

I have never met a truly strong person who didn't have self-respect. I
think a lot of inwardly and outwardly directed contempt passes itself
off as self-respect: the idea of raising yourself by stepping on
someone's shoulders instead of doing it yourself. When I see guys
working out for cosmetic reasons, I see vanity exposing them in the
worst way, as cartoon characters, billboards for imbalance and
insecurity. Strength reveals itself through character. It is the
difference between bouncers who get off strong-arming people and Mr.
Pepperman.

Muscle mass does not always equal strength. Strength is kindness and
sensitivity. Strength is understanding that your power is both physical
and emotional. That it comes from the body and the mind. And the
heart.

Yukio Mishima said that he could not entertain the idea of romance if he
was not strong. Romance is such a strong and overwhelming passion, a
weakened body cannot sustain it for long. I have some of my most
romantic thoughts when I am with the Iron. Once I was in love with a
woman. I thought about her the most when the pain from a workout was
racing through my body. Everything in me wanted her. So much so that
sex was only a fraction of my total desire. It was the single most
intense love I have ever felt, but she lived far away and I didn't see
her very often. Working out was a healthy way of dealing with the
loneliness. To this day, when I work out I usually listen to ballads.

I prefer to work out alone. It enables me to concentrate on the lessons
that the Iron has for me. Learning about what you're made of is always
time well spent, and I have found no better teacher. The Iron had
taught me how to live.

Life is capable of driving you out of your mind. The way it all comes
down these days, it's some kind of miracle if you're not insane. People
have become separated from their bodies. They are no longer whole. I
see them move from their offices to their cars and on to their suburban
homes. They stress out constantly, they lose sleep, they eat badly.
And they behave badly. Their egos run wild; they become motivated by
that which will eventually give them a massive stroke. They need the
Iron mind.

Through the years, I have combined meditation, action, and the Iron into
a single strength. I believe that when the body is strong, the mind
thinks strong thoughts. Time spent away from the Iron makes my mind
degenerate. I wallow in a thick depression. My body shuts down my
mind. The Iron is the best antidepressant I have ever found. There is
no better way to fight weakness than with strength. Once the mind and
body have been awakened to their true potential, it's impossible to turn
back.

The Iron never lies to you. You can walk outside and listen to all
kinds of talk, get told that you're a god or a total bastard. The Iron
will always kick you the real deal. The Iron is the great reference
point, the all-knowing perspective giver. Always there like a beacon in
the pitch black. I have found the Iron to be my greatest friend. It
never freaks out on me, never runs. Friends may come and go. But two
hundred pounds is always two hundred pounds.

[Slartibartfast]

Har läst det där nån gång förut

[Halldin]

Dum fråga kanske, men vem är det?

Delar samma namn som Discoverykillen med den lilla nacken

[Slartibartfast]

Originally posted by Halldin
Dum fråga kanske, men vem är det?

Sångare, skådis och allmän badass

[Knoxville]

Jag såg Henry Rollins "spoken word" för några år sedan. det kickade ass!! han är verkligen en cool och rolig person. böckerna är riktigt bra (läst 4 st)

Black flag är lite väl punkigt för mig, men rollins band rockar!

[Kalleh]

En kille som det hade varit roligt att göra en "Är du muskelmässigt större än..." tråd om...

[Lucas]

japp. han är riktigt grym. gillar böckerna. personlig favorit: solipsist


fick höra av min handledare på sommarjobbet att jag var grymt lik han tydligen.

[Allan]

Har ni inte hört BlackFlag är det dags. Och Henry Rollins är en sympatisk snubbe. Som älskar skivstänger - vilket jag påpekat ett flertal gånger....

Vill ni höra hur det låter? http://21361.com/site/main.html

Kan vara läge att citera honom också:

""The Iron never lies to you. You can walk outside and listen to all kinds of talk, get told that you're a god or a total bastard. The Iron will always kick you the real deal. The Iron is the great reference point, the all-knowing perspective giver. Always there like a beacon in the pitch black. I have found the Iron to be my greatest friend. It never freaks out on me, never runs. Friends may come and go. But two hundred pounds is always two hundred pounds."



allan

[Halldin]

"I was threatened and beaten up for the color of my skin"

Han är ju vit?

[JustinCredible]

Originally posted by Halldin
"I was threatened and beaten up for the color of my skin"

Han är ju vit?

Han är väl en mix av lite olika gissar jag...?

[Mindek]

Originally posted by Halldin
"I was threatened and beaten up for the color of my skin"

Han är ju vit?

Jaha, och bara för man är vit kan man inte bli misshandlad p.g.a. sin hudfärg eller vadå

[Halldin]

Originally posted by Mindek



Jaha, och bara för man är vit kan man inte bli misshandlad p.g.a. sin hudfärg eller vadå

Nej, helt otänkbart.

[Zafer]

bumpar tråden lite för alla som inte läst det

[MilkmaN]

Pretentiöst och fyllt med klichéer men likväl intressant, även om det inte kändes som en unik historia direkt. Han har säkerligen kryddat den åtskilligt.

[Fatalist]

grym historia, härlig motivation!