This is a slightly modified copy of a post I felt like writing as a reply to a guy that wanted to quit the iron game. Felt like posting it around here, who knows, maybe will help a couple of newer members which are considering to quit the iron game think a little of what they are going to do.
'' Aight. First of all lemme tell ya this. I've only read through half of your post. Well lemme tell ya somethin'. I started lifting at 15 years old and quit the iron game when I was 17 since I had barely the time to eat, and what not due to a new job I got. Most of the times I ended up working overtime and had barely the chance of eating 3 solid meals a day.
Today I'm 20 years old, am slightly less busy. But when I look back I watch myself in the mirror and say these exact words
'WHAT A FUCKIN' PUSSY WITHOUT BALLS I WAS'
I loved the iron game, more then the pussy. I'm not kidding. The shear love of watching my body change, albeit slowly, as months passed was satisfying. Sure I'm no Hulk, I'm no friggin Ronnie Coleman, Hell I'm not even close to the mass and lifts most of the experienced users (5 years plus) have on these boards. But you know what?
I dont fuckin' care. Not even a little bit.
All I know is that lifting for me had been, and is again, a way of changing myself, both physically and mentally. The iron game is something I see as 'me versus the older me'. I challenge my old lifts, every time I'm in the gym. Sure we are humans, and heck I'm not exactly rich, I can't afford shit loads of steroids and the diet some pro bodybuilders have.
There was a time where I looked at those muscle magazines, adverts, adverts, adverts, and more adverts about supplements, super human workouts and all those big ripped guys with massive muscles with beautiful woman. And I was like
'Holy shit, how the hell did they get hyoge like diz?'
In the begging little I knew that there was so much more then buying 'Product X' in order to get just a little closer to that level of strength and muscularity.
Now that I think, I also remember a very particular moment when I was 16. By that time I had been about a year of lifting weights. I remember my friends lifting at our school gym.
I also remember that there was this one time where I was standing in front of the mirror just before starting to work out, just for a brief moment. And without really noticing I remember telling to myself
'Damn. I AM getting big'
A few minutes later, a couple of chicks entered the gym, and you know what? THEY WHERE LOOKING AT ME! For the first friggin time in my life, a year after that girl told me 'You are repulsive', was LOOKIN` AT ME AND SMILING???!!!
HOLY SHIT. I thought
Simple things. May mean nothing for some of these people here. But heck I was fuckin' proud of myself that day. Time continued to pass, and lifting just became part of me like breating, eating, drinking fresh water, farting, having a crap, jerking off. You get the drift.
I truly learned to love when my muscles where pumped up with blood. I loved my body being pumped from the weights I lifted. I enjoyed the sound of the plates clanking with each other when I squatted or performed any other exercise. I enjoyed how the bar bent on my neck and my face turned red.
I remember being happy when I was squatting with such intensity that when I looked at my face in the mirror, I'd notice my eyes wanting to pop out while my abdominals would be in oh so much tension. I got friggin' BONERS after performing squats. Not kidding.
I learned to love pain.
That happened 3 years after. 3 fuckin years after I lifted my first barbell ever. I started squatting BODYWEIGHT at 15 years old. And was squatting 140Kgs for repetitions on my sixth set when I was 17. Holy shit..heh..
If I remember how many mistakes I did and training routines I experimented with I lose the count. There where 4 months where my instructor..cuz altough I trained at home an instructor visited me once in a month told me 'YOU AREN'T DOING ANY PROGRESS. IN 3 MONTHS, 4 MONTHS?? YOU HAVE THE SAME PHYSIQUE'.
I struggled and struggled and 3 years after there I was squatting a weight that is enough for it to bend the bar on my neck.
That my friend is a sense of accomplishment.
Sure I injured myself. I busted both my kneecaps with squats (long story), injured groin etc...but kept on going, improving over my older me. Then I made the mistake of quitting. Little I did know I was going to start lifting again after 3 years of quitting. You know why I started again?
Because I was fed up of being a pussy again.
5 weeks ago I started lifting again. I'm lifting MUCH less weight than I used too. But lifts are coming up steadily. Why? I learned to listen to my body and what works and what doesn't to a certain extent. I'm no 'Mr. Know it all' mind you. But again, you get the drift.
What I want to say is this. Like Morpheus told Neo in the matrix, 'You have two options':
1) Either face the reality and admit that you wanna become or worse yet, remain a pussy.
2) Strive to beat your old inner self. So that one day you could have the privilege to watch yourself in the mirror and say 'HOLY SHIT IM GETTIN BIG'. and who knows, maybe have an opportunity to bang that chick that once wouldn't even have noticed you and again have the PRIVILEGE to tell her 'You are repulsive', like I did.
Just one last thing- when you're going to be a little older, maybe a little wiser, don't start to whine if you see your 'buff friend' gettin' all the girls around, and 'having an ego' and you gettin' nuttin. Don't even DARE to look at the accomplishments he got, because if you're going to choose option number 2, you know deep inside that you won't deserve it. Just keep that in mind.
Your choice my friend. ''