Fuck The World Log

[EggMcMuffin]

LBBS 240 3x5

LP on squats fucking sucks lol

Need to start running again, cardio is going to shit. Squats had me winded.

Considering dropping out of college entirely even in spite of the time I have invested in it.

To do what? This sounds like a terrible idea.

Nothing I guess. I'm just sick of it all.

I mean realistically I have no choice but to soldier on, but I look at the path that is ahead of me post graduation (or even towards graduation) and it just makes me feel like benching with no safeties.

[hector]

I salute your log name.

[CheekiBreekiFitness]

Dude, I have a suggestion: just do not allow yourself to drop things. There's this pattern where you start doing something, then you do it for a while then you feel bad about it because you have low self esteem and then you drop it and the cycle repeats.

Next time you want to quit your job, stop training, drop out of college, change your program (all of them are horrible ideas) whatever just do not allow yourself to do it, even if you feel you are not doing well or you do not meet some sort of expectation you set for yourself. You feel that you suck at lifting ? Good, just keep lifting. You don't like college ? Good, just stay there and graduate. And so on and so forth.

Just keep doing what you're doing you'll be fine. For most things in life, the single most important factor is consistency, even if you are not talented. It applies to lifting and it applies to everything else.

[augeleven]

Feeling like you’re benching with no safeties is a real thing, my dude.
It gets better. Of course it also gets worse.
Keep your head down, keep hating your life, keep pushing.
If you’re lazy, be too lazy to quit. Stupid? Be too stupid to quit.
The joke is on the rest of the world, because you already exist.

Back when I was in Jazz School(tm), all of us who were dealing with the fact that we weren’t touring with Steve Coleman or Terrence Blanchard were reading this book - “Effortless Mastery” - by Kenny Werner

It probably has the same overexposed pop-zen bromides as all the other books recommended to you by people who barely know you.

It helped me a bit.

[Hardartery]

I have never even seen a bench with safeties in real life, much less used one. Safeties are over-rated. I have generall done all of my lifting without safeties, I walk out side of the Squat Rack because I tend to hit the fixed bars at the bottom and it throws me off. The No-No-No squat is a thing (No wraps, no belt, no spotter), you get it or you pay a price. I like to employ that as impetus sometimes, if you HAVE to get it then you hit lifts you might bail on otherwise. It doesn't work for everyone, but lift it or die has a place. Life can work that way too, if you HAVE to succeed, then sometimes you just find a way.

[EggMcMuffin]

LBBS 245 4 4 5

Chins AMRAP

Did first two sets as 4s because I just didn't have my shit mentally together enough to fight through to the fives except at the end.

Going to drop my physics class today - the 17th is the deadline to withdraw. Classical mechanics literally makes no fucking sense to me. At least that's a load off my shoulders, but I feel pretty miserable, like, actively suicidal - but it's not so much being sad about getting owned by a relatively easy pre-req, it's more just a reminder that my life is just a long series of massive L's.

I will start a new program soon since I now have less to worry about.

[EggMcMuffin]

Woke up at 5PM today, ran 2 miles. That's it.

I should really do something about the lifelong clinical depression thing.

[EggMcMuffin]

This was Fridays (Nov 18): 3x3 250 LBBS
Shit is getting heavier. IDK if I was just drained from work but 3x5 was not gonna happen. Had the weird thoracic looseness going on too, sometimes it feels like the bar is just digging into my fucking spinal bone and no amount of cueing or tightening or whatever helps it. I think it's just tiredness, but it's annoying. Hauling 50-80lb sacks all day probably fucked me up.


Sunday's non lifting whine fest: I grew up in what I now understand to be a somewhat abusive, dysfunctional family and while lifting has honestly helped me unfuck a lot of what went wrong with me in those respects I have to say that having emotions sucks ass. Like I'm socially retarded due to the conditions of my fucked up life and I feel like my coworker might be flirting with me and like in my head I'm just like "fuck you, go away, I know what relationships lead to" but heart say: "I am becoming increasingly cold and unfeeling, and my heart has become obdurate from years of pondering why someone would throw all the plates at their partners head in a fit of chimpanzee-esque rage, but I am withering away in spite of it all"

The cold November rain beats steam off San Franciscan frying sewer covers, where the steam becomes like the effusive day dreams of misspent youth. The cardboard tenements melt under the first rains of the season, killing what little warmth lived within. Pacific winds sear the flesh on the nape of the neck, but I am no longer here to feel it.

Women without penises, and women with them, and the men with (me?) and without all remain a mystery. Why something as dim as the heat of affection manages to burst forth among the undying, unfeeling stars, I do not know.

[Culican]

Every time I read your writing I think of Eric Hoffer. He wrote his most famous book while working as a longshoreman in San Francisco. Supposedly President Eisenhower considered him his favorite author.

I think you have similar potential.

[EggMcMuffin]

Holy Fuck staring at computer screens fucking sucks

AMRAP chins, no squats 2 busy

[mouse]

The cold November rain

[EggMcMuffin]

LBBS 3x3 255

Just barely survived. I weigh only 171ish at the moment, so I am pretty light compared to when I first ran SS and ballooned up to 205lbs, before ending at 218lbs with a 295lb 3x5 lol. Getting to 265 is the goal ATM.

This LP is coming to an end soon, I'm going to need to LP my bench somehow since I've only been squatting for a while. I want to get onto an actual program now, I think. The plan was just squat and bench but fuck that lol. Let's just do it right, even if it's half assed.

I feel inspire to put some words out but I should go to bed. 4:38AM. I can't keep doing this lol. It's hard when I know I have nothing to wake up for in the morning, and my college scheduling is such that I can get away with it a lot but man it is so unhealthy. My household is unhealthy. Whatever.

[DCR]

^ Yeah. I’ve known a few people who did the stay up til all hours every night thing. It worked out badly for all of them.

@mouse, thanks for handling that for me.

[EggMcMuffin]

Pulled my neck on Monday so the week has been shitty. Can finally move my head again.

LBBS 260lb 3x3. Next workout is probably it for this LP, these are beginning to feel very grindy. I'm psychotic enough to continue until 275lbs but what benefit does that really confer?

I want to squat 405. I don't think I can and I probably won't and if I do I will probably fucking die when I do but that is my only goal now. I just want to do 405x1.

I've honestly been thinking (as I've said many times before) about who I've been and the kind of life I've led and I feel a lot of sadness for how a lot of it has turned out and I realize kinda have that loser phenotype (this is a grim joke) and a lot of stuff is always going to be a struggle for me and that I have to learn to accept my life isn't necessarily going to be one that is "good" or enjoyable.

Accepting that is very hard. I feel like squatting 405 means something though, in a way pulling 405 didn't. "Have you tried lifting for fun!?"


Bitch, yes I have. I wouldn't even still be fucking lifting weights I've I was doing it for the ladies. Not only am I prone to deep bouts of depression that make me a complete drag to be around, I'm also a short Latino man. This precludes that toxic dimension of this hobby. I do it for the love of the *game* baby. I love walking out of the gym knowing I got mollywopped by the iron. The bar says: Fuck. You.

I would not have it any other way.

[DCR]

I feel like squatting 405 means something though, in a way pulling 405 didn't.

I totally agree. In trying to parse out why, I have to admit that it’s probably just the much younger me who wants to be a big dude. I’ve seen countless DYEL little guys with good leverages pull 405 and over. I’ve never seen anyone squat 405 or over who wasn’t diesel. (Ok, or really fat.)

Bitch, yes I have. I wouldn't even still be fucking lifting weights I've I was doing it for the ladies. Not only am I prone to deep bouts of depression that make me a complete drag to be around, I'm also a short Latino man. This precludes that toxic dimension of this hobby. I do it for the love of the *game* baby. I love walking out of the gym knowing I got mollywopped by the iron. The bar says: Fuck. You.

My recollection is that you’re 5’9. That is objectively not short. Also not for nothing, a third of my town is legit 5’2 Central Americans, all of whom have chicks. (Also three kids, but still.)

But yeah, understand, I don’t do this for that toxic reason. Just for fun and different toxic reasons.

[EggMcMuffin]

Running today. Working retail sucks BALLS so I only got like 5 hours of sleep. Not sleeping makes me feel quite literally suicidal. I don't know why. I'm skeptical of the the neurochemical models of "depression" and think a lot of my problems stem from having had a shitty life, not looking like I lift and what not but it's fucking bizarre how anything less than 6 hours of sleep immediately flips a switch that's like "yeah every thought that goes through your head today is going to be an unmitigated horrowshow".

I wish I had more positive things to say for like the 2 people reading this. I mean squatting seems to have helped my running, and the winter season makes The Lake look fucking gorgeous, which is why I like running there. I tend to forget about wanting to turn myself into red paste when the breeze is just right at 47 degrees fahrenheit and the sun is licking the sky with the tips of its flames, crushing the blue into phantamasgoric ochre, reminding me of the things I could have been and the things that I unfortunately am.

We're only here once. Should probably pick up some running insoles on the off chance my legs don't grow back.

[CheekiBreekiFitness]

Running today. Working retail sucks BALLS so I only got like 5 hours of sleep. Not sleeping makes me feel quite literally suicidal. I don't know why. I'm skeptical of the the neurochemical models of "depression" and think a lot of my problems stem from having had a shitty life, not looking like I lift and what not but it's fucking bizarre how anything less than 6 hours of sleep immediately flips a switch that's like "yeah every thought that goes through your head today is going to be an unmitigated horrowshow".

I wish I had more positive things to say for like the 2 people reading this. I mean squatting seems to have helped my running, and the winter season makes The Lake look fucking gorgeous, which is why I like running there. I tend to forget about wanting to turn myself into red paste when the breeze is just right at 47 degrees fahrenheit and the sun is licking the sky with the tips of its flames, crushing the blue into phantamasgoric ochre, reminding me of the things I could have been and the things that I unfortunately am.

We're only here once. Should probably pick up some running insoles on the off chance my legs don't grow back.

Being dissatisfied with your life is a hard and complex problem to solve. But not looking like you lift is an incredibly simple problem to solve. You just have to lift weights. Why are you only squatting ? Do some high reps upper body bro stuff and you'll look like you lift. Simple as that. Nothing to it but to do it. Also, you don't even need to sleep that much for that: that dude MythicalStrength doesn't sleep that much and he's jacked out of his mind.

[EggMcMuffin]

Sometimes the heaviest weights we lift are our feels.

I don't think I've lifted anything heavier.

Emotions x 1 at RPE 10

Some animalistic part of me, the part that managed to take me from being some scrawny dweeb to deadlifting over 400lbs in spite of everything telling me no wishes I could just rip Emotions off the floor the same way I did 445. It doesn't work like that. It takes a slow, measured approach, getting stuck, setting up again, hitting grinders. There is no royal road to sanity.

I've trudged along for many years now, like the last Eskimo in the great North American wastes, snow as bright as the sun and cold as searing as the Yucca pavement. Clanking along, bones creaking, muscles tweaking. At 17 the winter beat me into contortion. Walking around the same block in straight lines over and over, with mind that was anything but orderly.

At 27 the winter reminds me that everything dies. The trees die, the birds seem to abscond to some place far beyond our imagination and the sun recedes behind the curtain of night with a manic haste. The world is muted past 5PM. Trudging along the wastes again.

Getting off the train at Downtown Berkeley station, delirious with sleep deprivation, feeling that I could melt down into the bricks at any second. I want these people to trod all over me. I am the bricks, I feel as unfeeling as the bricks, and I deserve to stepped on, kicked, beaten. Smiling porceilain tacks in meatbags always have room for a scowl.

I am now Hobo Jamming outside UC Theatre Taube Hall. I embarass myself in front of a bunch of white women, mostly because being a sleep deprived brick incapable of feeling anything but brick deep sorrow at the fact that we exist at all is not conducive to fluid communication.

I brick out: "Is these the uh this for the to go inside the concert hall thing tickets or is over there?"

The woman in charge of alcohol wrist bands who looks a lot like a beautiful mop pierces me with her blue eyes and pretty much immediately ignores the verbal diarrhea that came out of my mouth and is like, "are you drinking tonight or not?"

I'm thrown through a window like Mookie's trashcan in Do The Right Thing by this statement. Someone picks me up and stuffs me in their pocket. I'm going in. Against all odds, I'm going in.


I wrote all this to say: even in spite of Osees being the best live act I've seen so far, life is pain, I like to write but am not that good at it and the semester ends in a week so I'm just going to go back to training and hope I transform from brick to fridge.

[EggMcMuffin]

Just writing for posterity's sake - was supposed to start The Bridge this week to ramp back up into some real structured training but COVID got in the way. First infection after three years. It's very mild so far (all four vaccines seemed to have worked?) but I'm reading all this crazy shit about how it can fuck you up. I probably shouldn't. Whatever happens happens man. There's no controlling this wild ride.

This was a rough, shitty, SHITTY year. I have been struggling with my mental health something awful the entire year, I don't think I've felt as bad since I was a teenager and those were some miserable ass times. I strongly considered killing myself while driving on the freeway about three weeks ago. It's harsh to admit that. I got fired from my shitty part time job in May and it really fucked a lot of things up, and I had already been losing my goddamned mind by then. I was losing my mind because my life is not going how I want it to and I'm getting old. Went into my summer class freaked the fuck out knowing I was running out of money, had to frantically search for a job that would work with my hours and while I now get paid more the hours are crap. Had no money until like November because I kept having to pay for stuff. Part of it is bad budgeting but my car just kept fucking me the whole last part of the year. Something broke every other week. It's still fucking broke. Got my ass beat by my physics class because my head wasn't in it, got my ass beat by my Diff Eq class and I was so burnt out I bombed my Intermediate Java class too. I'm extremely lucky in that my Diff Eq professor was also having a sort of a meltdown and he gave me an A out of sympathy which saved my GPA, and a classmate made it so I could at least get a C in my Java class by forwarding me his final exam (multiple choice) so I could score perfectly. Got very, very lucky.

And now I have COVID.

I don't know. I'm 27 in a few days and I still feel like the same stupid ass kid I was when I was 17 but fatter, hairier and with more battle scars (both figuratively and literally). I came from a very humble background and I just keep thinking about how miserable and downright traumatic parts of my life have been up to this point - which I guess is this case for anyone who doesn't come from money, but it just never gets easier does it?

I'm just sick of worrying about everything. I'm worried about how my dad is getting visibly old. I remember when he was my age...I'm worried about how my mom seems to be headed mentally off the deep end. I'm worried about my NEET brother who also has mental health issues. I wonder where the hell my estranged sister is and if she is okay. My childhood cat finally died and as usual I'm the one who had to find her lifeless corpse at 2AM (I will miss you forever, little grey friend). Is there a cat afterlife? Is there a human afterlife?

Is there an endgame to any of this crazy ass shit? I just can't seem to make peace with constant flux of everything, and just how powerless I feel in the face of everything and everyone. None of the things I have struggled with since I was a teenager with have gotten any better. My family is heading down the shitter. I'm lonely. The world is in a historical low-point and is getting shittier by the minute. Is there any rational response to anything of this but sheer despondency and a desire to retreat back into the arms of Our Lord And Savior Jesus Christ, who I have not believed in since my first communion?

Like none of this shit has any answers.

I guess the best thing to do is live by the words of Mark Bell:

"Guess what my friend, we're all headed there. We'll all die. We'll all be in a lot of pain. It's all comin' our way. It's inevitable. It's part of life. But in the meantime, you might as well be a fucking savage and live your life the way you want to live."

There's nothing to this life but thin air. In the meantime, let's live by those words. Slap some weight on the bad, step back and squat down into 2023 just as terrified and as confused as you were the first time you squatted 315. You know why? Because we're all headed there.

Try to make this one count.

[MarkKO]

Keep your head up brother.

This is a time of year that tends to remind you how shitty everything is, because the focus around you is on how wonderful everything should be which just magnifies shitty stuff.

You're just starting out. Twenty-seven is still young, it just doesn't feel like it. My twenties sucked, mostly because I made some award-winningly bad decisions in every aspect of life and didn't exactly get a great run-up in my childhood. My thirties are coming to a close and they've been good beyond my wildest dreams, mostly because I got all the dumb shit and mistakes out of the way in my 20s, and they showed me just how much shit I could get dumped on me and still keep moving.

You'll be OK. It doesn't feel like that, but what you're going through now is going to make you close to bulletproof. There's probably a nicer way to achieve that, but I never found out what it was.

I don't expect you to believe me, but in 10 years you'll know exactly what I mean.