on gyming it up 6

I never did finish this did I? The saga continues...

Our culture has created certain ideals for each of us to live up to. There exists for men a certain ideal image not in some metaphysical realm but in the world of the social. Call it a Social Form, if you will. Now unlike Plato’s forms these particular ideals are subject to change over time, much like language. The antecedents of the ideal Social Form for men were given voice during the Enlightenment period. Human well being (health) and incredibly optimistic views about our abilities to manipulate nature (power, some might say hubris) have lead to the culturally conditioned Social Form that visually confirms to us whether or not a given man is in possession of these attributes. A toned (fatless) body with generous muscle definition denotes manliness evoking a sense of power, vitality and well being; this is the Enlightenment reified.

Our culture is saturated with signs which give birth to the Social Form. As this composite model of what is desirable becomes ingrained in the value system of a society, we can decide whether or not to conform to the form presented. That is, we may attempt to simulate the image. The images are everywhere we see them on bill boards, and advertisements showing us what the epitome of manliness looks like. The cultural theorist Baudrillard applies an interesting interpretation to the concept of simulation. At its most advanced level simulations no longer duplicate reality they replace it. Early civilizations attempted to reproduce scenes from nature, as technology advanced more elaborate signs and artifacts became possible. The ideal male body seen in this light is a simulacra, when one attempts to simulate its Social Form a piece of reality is not being reproduced but a new object that is created replaces the former figment of reality. We now have entered the hyper-real, the real that is more real than real, the manly that is more manly than manly.

This is me re-enforcing the stereotype:

 (except I can't remember what I've done at the gym these past few weeks so the following is an approximate)

bench 87.5/2*8,4

chins, dead hang (me)/3*8

seated row 65/3*10 

front squat 90/3*5

I have found that training in-season is exceptionally more difficult than the off-season. It hurts. It really does.

random connectedness

I chomp into, then slurp down a sample to make sure my 2 minute noodles are al dente. I go to the loo and am greeted by a cartoonishly large cockroach. Did Gregor Samsa accidentally slip into and drown in my toilet bowl? Has my flatmate taken to gourmet servings of super sized insects and passed one, without the customary digestive functions of the bowel taking affect? Only time will tell. I play rugby league and we win on a last second try. Are all these events somehow connected? I don't know, but I'm living them.

I step into the gym and things make sense...

bp 75/2*8

inc bench 70/2*8

sit row, v bar 70/4*8

rear delt fly 2(5)/3*8 (pause on each rep)

being and becoming

I am sitting down finally. The haze of sheer exhaustion from this week has been washed away momentarily by the torrential down pour during footy training today. There's no real reason why rugby league should be called footy. The ball for 90 percent of a game is kept in hand. It's one of those things that has always puzzled me. Before the weight of my specially cultivated malignant tiredness resumes, I sit and reflect. I'm human. All too human. This is a trait I'll never overcome. I sit and imagine things different, as they could possibly be if I were not the person who was fantasizing about alternate realities.

I feel like I learned something today. It's one of those lessons that you already know, but only on an intellectual level. I don't say this dismissively, I'm all for cold calculating irrefutable logic, but there are certain phases that an idea needs to pass through before it attains apotheosis. It's not quite out of the chrysalis for me yet; still digesting, to mix a metaphor. I'm reading What I Talk About When I Talk About Running by Haruki Murakami, a literary savant from Japan. It's a memoir of sorts about running and the writing life. The lesson was simply this: when he does something he puts everything into it. This guy runs marathons for fun. It's crazy, there really are no secrets to success.

what I talk about when I talk about working out...

(A1) bp 80kgs/3*8

(A2) chin, n-grip me/2*8;6

(A3) row, seated, v-grip 55,60,65*8

The Dark Knight Returns

Where have I been? All over the place. He returns in strange ways quantifiable only in diminutive increments immeasurable by common means. Loren walks in the door and the gym stops mainly because it never moves. According to relativity there are no objects at rest. NZ is not the wondrous place I thought it was. Not in Hamilton. Among like minded people, he likes to think different. We all do. That way we're always alone together. The best of all possible worlds is inaccessible only when you don't DYI. So, if you want a job done right there's only one option, alternatively you could outsource; I really can't be bothered living off the land. He moon walks to the bench, Michael Jackson never had it this good. Neverland never really happened, but I did. Home at last.

workout>>

front squat 60*30
OHP 60 /3*3;40*10
seated row 84/3*10
lat pulldown 54*9,68*9,61*9
hang snatch 40/3*5

volume: 7507kgs

something to think about next time you go to the gym

On Gyming It Up part 2 (here's part one)


Certain sensibilities have crept to the surface of our collective conscious over the past few decades. Somewhere close to the top of this heap of human conceptions is the desire to promote a healthy lifestyle. This desire to transcend the natural deterioration of organic matter is probably an offshoot of the oft-lamented Enlightenment project[1]. Among the many parts which gave shape to the body of this intellectual movement (along with the promotion of rationality, equality and subsequently the dispersion of superstitions, holy blood-lines and the like) was the establishment of the human being as the new centre of the universe. Nature was a chaotic malaise that would soon bend to our unreasonably impressive reasonableness[2]. It is implied then that humans possess an immense power, the power to control reality through reason. As we harnessed the combined powers of our considerable intellects we would conquer nature and leave some of her less than desirable aspects like (but not limited to) ageing, sickness and death bruised and beaten into submission...

and bada bing bada boom a work out
bench 60*8, 95/4*5
chins 95/4*5
seated row 94/4*5
OHP 2(22.5)*8,5


[1] For the purposes of this essay, the idea that the Enlightenment was a phallocentric phenomenon will be treated as axiomatic.
[2] Nisbet: The Sociological Tradition, pp 21-44

late entry

This work out actually happened yesterday, but I'm logging it today, somehow I'm slipping. In other news my special NaNoWriMo production sits at a formidible 832 words. Somebody stop me.

bench: 40/2*30;20
chins: 98/4*6
inc bench: 60*4,5
hammer row: 100/2*7
seated row: 77/2*8

volume:

abysmal bench

What if I were to tell you that I bench like a girl? Would you think less of me? Do you think that initial question is sexist? Do you think that what you think matters? Good for you.

bench 40*31, 45*15,50*12,55*10,60*8,65*5,70*3
seated row 70*10,77*10,84*10

volume: 6390

working out stuff

Oh, that's a good question. Now is probably a good time to get the jump on new year's resolutions. They'll never see it coming. With that in mind here goes: I'm going to start for an NBA team, any one will do, I don't play favourites and in my spare time I'll play linebacker for the Dallas Cowboys.

Realistic goals? What are you talking about? What's the point then?

OK, I admit I've got a few things to work on. I seem to be missing a jump shot, but once I find it, I'm sure there's one around here somewhere, I'm a top 10 draft pick for sure.

What's that? Yes, that's right I'm not black, I don't live in America and I'm old. That just makes it more interesting doesn't it. Look at Arnie he's all of those things and he's doing just fine.

Well, if you insist on being boring here they are. I'm going to get ridiculously ripped, I'm going to do a between the legs dunk within a year, power snatch my own body weight, and I'm sure I'll think of some more arbitrary motivators once you get off my back. Any more questions?

Yes. I did work out today.

bench 80*10,8,8
chins 97/5*6
inc bench 50/2*10
seated row 77/2*6

volume: 6194kgs

for the hell of it

I have pushed through the wall and entered full on gym addiction. Feels good, feels real good.

dead hang pull ups (99kgs)/6*4
seated row 70/4*8
OHP 40/2*10

volume: 5416kgs

cyclone alert

A lot goes into a good work out. I was well on my way when things started getting complicated. I thought the parking proved a difficult task (nothing available immediately outside the gym) until I got to the walk. Between me and my destination? About 600 meters of pavement and a 300 mile an hour of wind. I knew I forgot something: storm warnings promised to be at the intensity of cyclone Bola. I couragously negotiated with the malfunctioning parking meters in unfriendly conditions for several minutes. As I made my way down the home stretch, my cap was blown mercilessly from my head and my hair got all messed up, what would the gym hotties think? Bravely I soldiered on and like a Muslim on a pilgrimage I found my Mecca. Peace be upon you.

Half hour of shooting around (bball).
power clean and jerk 60/2*5
military 40*10,8
seated row 70/2*10 last rep pause
inc press 60*10

volume: 3320kgs