Philosophy & Poetry: May 2008 Archives

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Miriam Kettlebell OHS @ Berkeley Ironworks




Strong Women Are Beautiful: excellent article on women's body image.

While I cannot fully advocate the ultra-high calorie and rather carb-heavy diet described in the above article, it is a hell of a lot better than the salad and low-fat cookie diet which has been foisted upon our nation's women ("Snackwells" are the devil) by so-called "Women's Magazines". Real women need fat and protein in their diet and muscle on their bodies.

I often hear women say they don't want to "have big muscles" or "get bigger". Well I'm not in the business of making you weak, and I refuse to buy into the idea that women should be weak! Perhaps you have some metabolically inert material you can remove so that you can gain muscle with no net displacement of body mass? Women need muscle mass to avoid osteoporosis, not to mention the fact that in the absence of quality muscle anyone, male or female, looks, well, weak. Is that really what you want? If so I suggest you avoid CrossFit, which will make you strong, and stick to bouncy-ball arm curl and cable-leg spasms, er I mean "exercises". You will be nice and weak even after years of doing them!

Some of the reasons female clients give for being worried about lifting weights:

* don't want big muscles

* only want to "tone" or "lengthen" their muscles

* don't want to "look like a man"


These concerns are baseless and can lead to women neglecting one of the most effective tools for preventing osteoporosis, and maintaining optimum health. To begin with, unless a woman is off the charts in terms of ability to develop muscle, she will not be able to gain significant muscle mass, even should she want to, without truly Herculean (or Amazonian) effort. Women generally do not have enough Testosterone to support large muscles. There are, of course, exceptions such as Olympic Sprinter Marion Jones, but even an athlete so gifted as she in ability to gain muscle mass felt the need to chemically enhance her testosterone levels. So we see that getting big muscles is not a concern, nor should it stop women from lifting weights.

The idea that muscles can be "toned" or "lengthened" by special or unique exercises is false. Despite the claims of some Yoga and Pilates practitioners, this is not possible. The shape of one's muscles, and, hence, limbs and torso, is the product of three things:

* Genetic shape of the muscles
* amount of muscle mass
* amount of "inert metabolic material" (fat)


You were born with muscles which have the same basic shape they do now, and they will continue to have that shape your whole life. This can easily be seen by looking at a few people's calves. Some have an insertion point high on the leg, and therefore look round and more muscular. Others have a lower insertion point, and look longer and leaner. There is no way to change this. However, you can add some muscle mass which will make your limbs look fuller and more shapely, which brings us to our last point. No matter how shapely or toned your muscles are, if they are covered in a thick layer of fat, they won't have much definition. Women generally should maintain 13-21% bodyfat for a combination of optimum health, athleticism and aesthetics, however a higher bodyfat percentage is still healthy (up to around 28%, although estimates vary). Just as too much fat is unhealthy and aesthetically undesirable too little will detract from health, athletic ability and a pleasing shape. As a caveat to the above, even lower bodyfat can have some benefit for activities which require an exceptional strength to weight ratio (such as climbing). I think the lower limit for women should be 11% bodyfat, and even this will tend to make you look drawn, in my opinion. Maintaining such a low bodyfat level without suffering ill effects, such as amenorrhea, or decreased muscle mass and bone density requires an exceptional diligence in one's diet (think zone-paleo)

Thinking that lifting weights will make you "look like a man" is misguided. Perhaps, if you try really, really hard, you might after some years of effort develop a look like Linda Hamilton in "Terminator 2" (yes, I realize she is smoking), Demi Moore in "GI Jane" or Angela Basset in just about anything. Would that be so bad?

Lifting weights is a wonderful health-giving activity for all people, and that includes all women. It builds bone density, prevents osteoporosis, burns calories up to 24 hours after you have finished doing it and contributes to overall health and prevents decrepitude. You would like to be able to walk when you get older right?

LISTEN TO MISTRESS KRISTA!!

Worth a repost.

IRON

By Henry Rollins

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I believe that the definition of definition is reinvention. To not be like your 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 advisor. 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 certain 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.

About this Archive

This page is a archive of entries in the Philosophy & Poetry category from May 2008.

Philosophy & Poetry: April 2008 is the previous archive.

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