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Black Steel in the Hour Of Chaos
By Jason Ferruggia
My callused hands being ripped apart by the deep knurling of the cold black
steel. Knees shaking, blood pressure skyrocketing, sweat dripping from every
pore. I let out a primal scream as my head turns bright red and nearly
explodes. The bar inches past my knees an up my quads to lockout. A new one
rep max in the deadlift, and the best feeling I'll have all week. Some people
call it dedication, others obsession. I believe it's a lot of both.
To the majority of people who lift weights on a regular basis, the above
scenario is something they could never relate to. These people go to the gym as
a way to meet new friends or just to stay in shape and improve their health. To
them, training is a hobby or a necessary evil. But to those of us who are
married to the iron for life and feel most at home pushing heavy weight in some
hole in the wall hardcore gym, it is our passion. The squat rack is our church,
the dead lift platform our temple and we bow to the iron. I lift therefore I am.
My obsession with lifting weights began over a dozen years ago and has never
wavered during that time. I've gone to battle with the iron and come out on the
losing end many times. I've strained, pulled, and torn muscles and ligaments.
I've screwed up my back and injured my knees. I've sweat, bled, and puked...all
in the same workout. But as Clark Griswold said to his daughter Ashley in
Christmas Vacation, when her eyes froze while searching for the perfect
Christmas tree, "It's all part of the experience." I do it because I love it.
I love the feeling of riding to the gym before workout time, Straight Outta
Compton blasting on the radio, violently chewing a piece of gum like it owed me
money, while channeling all the rage and anger I can muster. I love when it
seems like I can't get to the gym fast enough and everyone on the road pisses me
off.
I love the calm before the storm when I enter the gym and greet everyone as
pleasantly as possible in my current mind state. After everyone arrives and
says hello the music gets turned up; Rage, Public Enemy, Metallica, Marilyn
Manson; it doesn't matter as long as it's loud and angry. I love the feeling of
anticipation for what's to come in the next hour and begin to pace like a lion
in a cage. The more things that can go wrong during this time period, the
better. I have always believed that you should train for, and in a state of
chaos. This is most important for athletes because the playing field can be
quite chaotic. Training alone at Pretty Boys Fitness Center won't cut it, you
need to surround yourself with animals in an environment where things can and
will go wrong and some one is going to piss you off and challenge you like
you've never been challenged before.
The quest for strength is one of mans basic instincts. It is something that has
been pursued fervently since the beginning of time, because, as the old saying
goes, only the strong survive.
Lifting weights can have an endless array of health benefits, but let's be
honest, that's not why we do it. The people at the local fitness center workout
for those reasons, but not us. We do it for that feeling of going to battle,
the rush of hitting a new max, and the pain and suffering that come along with
it. We do it because we love to set goals and bust our asses in pursuit of
them. We do it because it allows us to release all our pent up anger and
aggression. We do it because we know most others don't have the balls to train
like we do. We do it for that feeling of camaraderie and competition amongst
training partners. We do it for the feeling that you can only get when you have
a cold black Texas power in your hands, straining for all that you're worth,
partners screaming in your ear, Slayer blasting on the radio, and you finally
reach that elusive goal you have been chasing. That is why we do what we do.
Jason Ferruggia
Professional Fitness & Performance Coach
By Jason Ferruggia
My callused hands being ripped apart by the deep knurling of the cold black
steel. Knees shaking, blood pressure skyrocketing, sweat dripping from every
pore. I let out a primal scream as my head turns bright red and nearly
explodes. The bar inches past my knees an up my quads to lockout. A new one
rep max in the deadlift, and the best feeling I'll have all week. Some people
call it dedication, others obsession. I believe it's a lot of both.
To the majority of people who lift weights on a regular basis, the above
scenario is something they could never relate to. These people go to the gym as
a way to meet new friends or just to stay in shape and improve their health. To
them, training is a hobby or a necessary evil. But to those of us who are
married to the iron for life and feel most at home pushing heavy weight in some
hole in the wall hardcore gym, it is our passion. The squat rack is our church,
the dead lift platform our temple and we bow to the iron. I lift therefore I am.
My obsession with lifting weights began over a dozen years ago and has never
wavered during that time. I've gone to battle with the iron and come out on the
losing end many times. I've strained, pulled, and torn muscles and ligaments.
I've screwed up my back and injured my knees. I've sweat, bled, and puked...all
in the same workout. But as Clark Griswold said to his daughter Ashley in
Christmas Vacation, when her eyes froze while searching for the perfect
Christmas tree, "It's all part of the experience." I do it because I love it.
I love the feeling of riding to the gym before workout time, Straight Outta
Compton blasting on the radio, violently chewing a piece of gum like it owed me
money, while channeling all the rage and anger I can muster. I love when it
seems like I can't get to the gym fast enough and everyone on the road pisses me
off.
I love the calm before the storm when I enter the gym and greet everyone as
pleasantly as possible in my current mind state. After everyone arrives and
says hello the music gets turned up; Rage, Public Enemy, Metallica, Marilyn
Manson; it doesn't matter as long as it's loud and angry. I love the feeling of
anticipation for what's to come in the next hour and begin to pace like a lion
in a cage. The more things that can go wrong during this time period, the
better. I have always believed that you should train for, and in a state of
chaos. This is most important for athletes because the playing field can be
quite chaotic. Training alone at Pretty Boys Fitness Center won't cut it, you
need to surround yourself with animals in an environment where things can and
will go wrong and some one is going to piss you off and challenge you like
you've never been challenged before.
The quest for strength is one of mans basic instincts. It is something that has
been pursued fervently since the beginning of time, because, as the old saying
goes, only the strong survive.
Lifting weights can have an endless array of health benefits, but let's be
honest, that's not why we do it. The people at the local fitness center workout
for those reasons, but not us. We do it for that feeling of going to battle,
the rush of hitting a new max, and the pain and suffering that come along with
it. We do it because we love to set goals and bust our asses in pursuit of
them. We do it because it allows us to release all our pent up anger and
aggression. We do it because we know most others don't have the balls to train
like we do. We do it for that feeling of camaraderie and competition amongst
training partners. We do it for the feeling that you can only get when you have
a cold black Texas power in your hands, straining for all that you're worth,
partners screaming in your ear, Slayer blasting on the radio, and you finally
reach that elusive goal you have been chasing. That is why we do what we do.
Jason Ferruggia
Professional Fitness & Performance Coach
