That Special Place

Heya manimals. Am I the only one who drops a barbell down after doing curls or skullcrushers or some other sweat-breaking, pain-inducing, beautifully choreographed hellish nightmare of a set, stands up, and is empowered by that feeling? The feeling that you’d easily feel vindicated tearing flesh off some living beast that happened to roam by at that moment because you are an invincible being of striated muscle tissue and sick devotion? Anyone else feel that little inkling to tear away at your own skin because you have the slight inclination that you may be fortified beyond humaness? Today I almost pulled the bar apart, and in doing so pushed myself closer to who I truly am, all that I possess and potentiate. Today I pulsated with heat and primal aggression. I tettered on that line of inner radiance and utter chaos. Today I was a beautiful Bulldozer. Anyone else along for the ride? Lata.

"MB Eric: Bitch slapping the last rep outta ya since he can't remember when."

-Eric

sounds like the LSD workout.

beautifully put.

I like the sound three fourty-fives make when you put the last one on. That gets me fired up.

My Primate friend E-man has phrased it perfectly again…have you considered a career in journalism, E? Seriously, the more I read your posts, the more I get stoked and I’m lovin’ every minute. Anyway, that feeling, that’s one hella kick-ass feeling, and that’s the feeling that fuels intense workouts. If you’re not getting that feeling, you’re not working hard enough and you’re not lifting with passion and desire! It’s called synergy, baby, and you have to feed off it…

I just worked it out MB - you must be Ronnie Coleman or Kevin Levrone cause this is the style they use to “write” their training articles ;). Whilst I would have trouble being as prosaic as you, I admit to getting that empowered feeling when I “test my self in the crucible of heavy metal”. And while others around me seem convinced goofyness and superficial fun is the sole path to understanding and truth, I often find myself thinking the ambition and focused endeavour of lifting weights is alot closer to the mark. Funny you mention curls - while others talk about the pain of squatting etc I can torture myself so badly with a 75 pd bb and a preacher bench I dont know whether to scream, laugh or cry but I get up feeling like a better man. Other empowering trials from the past 7 days include (a) watching my training partner get spontaneaous pink eye and check for a nosebleed in the middle of a new 10 rep max squat set and (b) saturday night new max single deadlifts with a 5 minute episode where I could have been mistaken for rainman and a longer period that night where I could have been chief from one flew over the cuckoos nest. (c) LMAO with others in the gym during squat and dl sessions upon visibly returning from that strange spiritual place known as struggling against new max or heavy 8 rep plus land.
Dre: keeping it real since eric was in diapers :wink:

Monkeyboy, my fine mammal…if you are referring to that feeling of surging superiority that follows a super workout…that endorphen rush that tells you you have subjected your body to pain that has pushed it to its limits…and the massive pump that makes you look huger than you have ever imagined years ago you could…then yes 100% absolutely. Then as you leave the gym, and go to wal-mart or whatever and you pass others…you feel like they are mere mortals compared to you…that they don’t deserve to be breathing the same air…with their fat out of shape flabby bodies…that any one of them continues to exist because you allow it…knowing you could snap their neck and they could do nothing to resist you…yep…know all about it…and I LOVE when I get like that!!

I get that too, especially after a set of squats. It’s something that the “mere mortals” in the gym who have never squatted heavy cannot begin to imagine. I also get it after a good martial arts class. That aggression spliced with confidence is unreal. I love hitting the weights after a class. Totally fired up

The only difference may be that I feel no need to “drop the barbell down” to make a loud noise; as if asking the world to PLEASE LOOK AT ME.

Nevertheless, well said.

Heya Manimals. Thanks for the support, it felt really good to pund out some literature about me and my forged friends. Ameture, as far as my throwing down the weights, I work out at home, alone, so unless the neighbors have installed bugs in my room and have binoculars handy, I don’t think I’m collecting much attention. Besides, its not a grandios move, its one of those love/hate relationships with the iron. Quite passionate actually. Think about it. You pick it up, have a close, passionate and intimate few moments, throw it down to reflect by yourself, then pick it up and engage once again in thy torrid affair with pain. I don’t give a fuck who’s watching, I do not care who’s not. I’m in my own little world. As for your comments Timbo, it completely thrills me that you enjoy my stuff so much, ah the dynamic beauty of reciprocity. While journalism is not my major, I tend to write a wide array of articles, stories, and so forth. I’m contemplating posting a weekly “update” from Monkeyboy Land. Whatcha guys think? Lata.

"MB Eric: Convincing the girls that while it may look like cock, it tastes like chicken since 1969."

-Eric