Heavy is the Head
Lift heavy things up, like other people.
I had almost an entire draft written to complain about the over / mis-representation of metabolism’s role in the (overly) broad umbrella of mental health. Much to the point of this post, I deleted it in favor of something more actionable; something equally moving, but in a forward direction.
It’s easy to “Monday morning quarterback” things, to hedge bets and criticisms after the fact. We tend to look for what we get. So, let’s take the opportunity to look for better.
The above picture was taken after a particularly brutal training session — the “FYF” variety. The caption I had written immediately after to Instagram was “I can’t tell you what it’s like. You’d have to be there to experience (yourself).”
Of course, the parenthetic “yourself” and absence of “it” is intentional. I can only try to tell you what my experience during that session, or any other, was like. Furthermore, for you to be able to experience yourself, for yourself, you surely can’t do so through my words.
The question then becomes, what great lengths do we go to to explicitly avoid experiencing or confronting ourselves?
In Tik-Tok land, FYF means “for your feed.” In the NonProphet tradition it means “Fuck You Friday.” However, I’m not convinced that the nature of these types of training sessions couldn’t equally mean “find your failure” — that is, illuminate deficits and character. Or perhaps it’s “fuck your feelings” or “find your friends”; either seems applicable.
Before this particular session I was chatting with a bodybuilder at my local fitness gym. Among other things, we discussed respect for the “hard” aspects of various fitness disciplines. Our synopsis was that:
Lifting Heavy feels and looks cool because there is no question; you did it or you didn’t. You can’t grind your way to or negotiate another outcome.
Endurance teaches you to redefine limits, what “hard” or “far” or “tired” is.
Capacity either teaches you 1) that you left something in the tank and you’re a punk that let’s yourself off the hook, or 2) that you’re puddle on the ground afterwards, but congratulations, you’re tougher than you thought.
Bodybuilding is about discipline and commitment; whether that’s diet, gym sessions, gear regimen, or cutting weight.
For the particular session in question (2/6/24) I had declined to look at other participants’ scores before completing the session myself. Much to the point of this post, once the work was done, it didn’t matter what anyone else had done — I knew who I was.
I had initially estimated that the session would take about 30-minutes. I was right, for the first leg. Then, peeled off my shirt and pressed on for another 12 minutes. I tried to keep my breath under control and not act like I was clamoring for attention, but various grunts and tightening of my soft palette were making my breathing hoarse.
After searing about 500 calories in 42:10 and leaving a sizeable puddle of sweat on the floor I slapped the stop timer on my phone, clasped my hands over my head, closed my eyes, and took several large sighs.
When I opened my eyes, a neighboring gym patron, who had witnessed the effort, walked over with an out-reached fist and said “killing it bro…” We bumped knuckles and went our separate ways. Nothing more needed to be said.
The obvious expression is that “real recognizes real.” I still recall going to a pistol training course shortly after I had gotten my brown belt. Clearly, I’m not a “gun guy”, but we were on the range section of the course and rotating through instructors — shooting one magazine under supervision, then going back to the end of the line.
Naturally, I took notes while I was waiting and when it was my turn to shoot again the instructor asked me what I was going to do different and I recited all the items he had previously mentioned.
He looked and pointed down range and was about to say “fire”, but instead looked back at me and said, “you don’t lose very often do you?”
The moral of these stories seems to be that “hard work is recognized by people that matter.” In other words, you may be either:
not working as hard as you think you are, or
working too hard to impress people that don’t give a damn about you.
Either case leaves you less than fulfilled.
It’s important to point out, to make it known and obvious, when you see others doing something special. On the one hand it will probably make them feel better, but it also changes us and our perspective.
If we’re always waiting for the other shoe to drop, we’re not surprised when it finally does. On the other hand, if we go looking for things that are going right, we’re more likely to find that too.
The proxy in this essay is fitness, but the principle is applicable to a variety of areas. Are you “looking for love in all the wrong places?” How long are you going to stay at the same dead-end job? Are you looking for more sympathy and hand outs than solutions?
If we’re going to do our duty to lift others up, then we owe it to ourselves to take care of ourselves as well; otherwise it’s just pretend. You’re the fat doctor telling a patient to lose weight. You’re the passive-aggressive Southern business woman saying, “bless your little heart.”
If you want the world to be different, start with yourself. Change has always been, and always will be, an inside job. You are the vector. Take responsibility for what you let flow into you and what flows from you.