[This piece was written by Henry Rollins, not by me.]
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 s–t 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.
Tom says
Awesome article, thanks for sharing. I can relate to practically everything said here (especially the part of staying sane, fighting depression, respect for the weight, being a whole person).
Wish more people could see the same thing as this author … most of my friends aren’t into lifting, and they think it pointless. It’s hard for me to articulate why I’m passionate about lifting, but this article sums it up quite well.
Jeff says
“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.” – Rollins
Man, this is so true, exactly what happened to me with dead lifting/strained piriformis. I was dead lifting heavy 5-6 times a week (too often). I felt like a superman monster until the injury. Ego got out of control, the iron humbled me.
Victor Pride says
Jeff,
I’m not surprised you got hurt. That’s a lot of deadlifting. Deadlift is just about the only lift I wouldn’t recommend too often. Once or twice a week is fine but I don’t deadlift any more often than that. Of course, that only applies to heavy deadlifting, which is the only way to do it.
KG says
Yo! What an article :) Cant think of words right now to explain.. but its great.
Ironthumb says
This is why I can’t complain about no new articles appearing here.
There are still tons of golden articles abound at B&D. Vic, I feel the same. I have stopped for the longest possible time (probably a year or two) and the reason I got back is because of aboutlifting. And I found my old sanity back – something that you will lose in all of the hours spent at “work”
Braydon says
Great post Vic. I’ve only been on this website for a couple days but I’ve picked up a ton. I have to say ballads are great for working out. Road goes on forever and the party never ends by REK and Ballad of the Kingsmen by Todd Snider really get me going. Always looking for new stuff though.. Got any recommendations for badass workout ballads?
Keep it up man we appreciate it.
Jeremy Truvilion says
-Victor Pride
Inspiring. . . period.
Mustafa says
Still one of the greatest essays on lifting weights I’ve ever read… inspiring
Chuck Freeman says
Wow, I love this post! I’m ready to hit the gym again!
Me to, the Iron changed my life! My first bench press gear, I bought 20 years ago, is probably the best investment I have made in all my life! I thing the bench cost me about 115$ :-)
It changed me deeply! For me, that’s when I have started my journey to become a man.
Thanks Victor! Very inspiring! Your blog is awesome!
Vince says
“There is no better way to fight weakness than with strength.”
One of the best quotes I’ve seen and I’m writing it in my notebook to keep me motivated!
Tall Young Man says
Always a great text.
Keep up the good work, Victor.
THE ONLY MARQUIS says
GOD THIS POST IS PROPHETIC
hodad says
Thank you Henry Rollin’s for composing this, thank you Victor Pride for posting it on your blog.
Rafael says
You’ve told us that the iron saved you (you, Victor), but we don’t know how you started lifting. It would be interesting to know the story.
Cesar says
Speak for yourself because I do know that he has written how it came to be… I don’t remember exactly but it’s something along the lines of him being invited to the gym by a girlfriend or a friend … not wanting to go, hating going to the gym but telling himself over and over “I LIKE TO GO TO THE GYM” over and over until it became a fact.
Look for it and you’ll find it and remember this:
“We find things we need when we’re ready to find them.”
– Victor Pride
Rafael says
Cesar:
https://boldanddetermined.com/2013/06/19/the-evolution-pride/
Cesar says
This is some funny shit… I had been looking for that article!
Goes to show Vic’s words shine TRUE although sometimes it’s just luck, luck i made.
Stryker says
Great article, Vic..
Saw it for the first time a few years ago and archived it. I read it a couple times a year. Showed it to my oldest boy. He is 11 and has Asperger’s Syndrome. He now gets up early everyday and does 100 push ups and sit ups and does kettlebells and some dumbells, and has done so for the better part of a year. Wish I had that discipline at his age.
Pique says
Wow !
I’ve learnt a big lesson.
This kinda posts make me want to come back to your blog to see whats new.
Exercise gives us euphoria.It gives us muscles.It gives us strength.
Makes life awesome.
Akinsola Marvellous says
Nice
keaner says
I used to work out all the time. A few years ago I sustained an injury and never returned to the gym. I have been lazy and my body reflects that.
A few weeks ago I put together a routine, got a new ipod and a membership…and that’s as far as I got.
This article kicked me in the teeth, I will be at the gym tonight.
Thanks for sharing.
Derek says
Excellent Post
“A habit is a shirt made of iron.” -Czech Proverb
shobhit says
Hey Victor,
This is one of the best article I have ever read about weight training. I have re-read and shared this article multiple times.
I will give you a brief intro about myself here. I started weight training almost an year ago. I followed you religiously. You motivated me more than anything else. You gave me what I needed most at that moment. I was going through a pretty bad phase of my life. Your website changed my life for good. I took the red pill, and I have never felt so good.
In just one year, I took control over my life. I give all the credit to weigh training. I have written something similar, about why one should lift.
http://lifestyleden.com/why-you-should-lift/
Appreciate your feedback. Thanks man!
Jossie says
I’m really grateful for this blog. Vic does a great job at providing resources that resonate within me and others. His blog leaves me inspired; I take action the entire day outside of my 9-5 building my blog and brand, no matter how tired I am.