MUSCLE CHURCH: Our Father, the Iron

I think that over time we attach meaning to things but don't often ask why something means a lot, we just know that it does. Over the course of my life I'm guilty of not letting myself get attached to things that I should because I've lived by the code that "everything is for sale." However, there are some things that have managed to get into my very exclusive "not for sale" category. I regret that there is a belt out there that was mine for many, many years and I let a friend hold it and he lost it in a move. I can't be too mad-I should've never let him borrow something so sacred anyway. However, one man's sacred is another man's optional-never forget that. What matters the most to you, might not mean anything to someone else and that's okay. We all have our loves and likes and there are times when we have to accept that something is just valuable to you and that's it. Which brings me to the subject of this post. You see this...

Often we get in a routine where it becomes easy to just say, ‘fuck it, I’m out.’ In society these days we have so much of everything that many things we truly want and value don’t seem to be worth too much. Going to a movie doesn’t mean anything if I can just stream it at home. Buying an album is just clicking a button. So much of what we do and say in life becomes meaningless because it’s so interchangeable. When you enter the arena of the gym things have a finite value. At your job things might be that way too; whether it’s fixing a car or filing reports, some things are concrete. However, we tend to think of being goal-oriented as the non-stop journey toward something, instead of the way we get there. It’s not always about the end result, it’s about the process. If you want abs. If you want a promotion. Hell, if you want to live another day-it doesn’t come automatically and you don’t earn it by accident. Whatever you want in life, has to come at a price and you pay that pri...

My first strongman contest was a learning experience every step of the way. I guess you want, or at the very least need, your first time doing something to be educational as much as you want it (or need it, remember that word) to be rewarding. I thought I had done everything I could to prepare for what was to face me on that cool West by God Virginia morning, but I forgot to bring one thing…my A game. I had studied the events and knew where my weaknesses laid and what my strengths were. I knew that the overhead press would be good and I tied for second, just like I knew the Atlas Stone could be disastrous and I failed to even lift it. I wound up coming in last place, by only a few points but still, LAST PLACE. Normally that would infuriate me and I’d write journal entries about how motivated I was to come back stronger and blah, blah, blah but in reality I took my picture with Phil Pfister (truly a large and silly man) and went to Ruby Tuesday and ate a little steak and some d...