I was driving my son to school today and I was thinking about who inspires me and why. And why I am always searching for stuff to inspire.
Its modeling, I guess. You know, watching Rocky as a kid and then going out for a run in the woods with a hooded sweatshirt on me. It pushes me to train.
Overcoming is what is inspiring to me. Then I relate what folks have done to what I am attempting to accomplish.
If Johnny Unitas can finish a game with his face so messed up that they packed it with mud to stop the bleeding, I can lose 40 pounds.
I used to think as a kid that I was weird for doing stuff like that, rereading books and memorizing parts of movies searching for inspiration but I still do it all of the time.
I have watched Outlaw Josey Wales a billion times and Valhalla Rising about five times and Rocky and Rocky 3 plenty of times. I have watched Kirk Karwoski's training tape hundreds of times and Yates training tape a bunch. I have read Hemingway's Boat around 4 times this year. I have studied the pictures of Arnold and Dave Draper squatting in the old Gold's Gym for hours.
I have a picture in my basement of Randy White training outside in the winter in Texas with his Rottweiler by his side that fires me up every time that I see it.
I love stories of people doing stuff that is inspiring, that is just tough, that makes you realize that you don't have a damn thing to hold you back.
If Mike Webster can do lunges in the snow with a barbell on his back and sleep in the weight room so that he could be there to help the players train early the next morning, I can run some hills in the perfect weather. If Webster can run the stadium everyday after practice, I can get my cardio in, right?
If Gino Marchetti could fight in World War II and survive and become a Hall of Famer, surely I can squat 500x10.
If the Bulgarian Weightlifting team can train and win in a place that has broken windows and holes in their shoes and train eight times a day, I can get my press goals.
If my dad can put himself through college by loading boxcars and then become a professor with two parents that didn't finish eighth grade, then I can finish writing a damn book.
If my son can walk a week after a kidney transplant, I can push through some stupid aches and pains.
If men can survive the Bataan Death March, I can not eat some cake even though everyone else is.You realize that you aren't that hungry when you read about those guys. Rice with worms, no water, fever's and dysentery. Lying in their waste unable to move. Yeah, I have it tough. Now, go train.
Not sure why I always am searching for these great stories, but it is within me to do it, and it has always has been. Hell, I am old as white dog crap now, and I still feel like a little kid when I hear great stories about great men doing amazing things.
