drb_iac
Active member
And now, without beating around the bush, hedge or prairie grass, allow me to come straight to the point without deviation or deceit, and inquire how we iron-hearted muscular marvels manage the eventual and distinctive processes of growing old, getting older and aging, which, according to my calculations and stream of anecdotal information we are bound to stagger, stumble or fall into, if we haven’t done so already.
I’m addressing any one of the aforementioned categories, adding the mature and maturing, the elders and elderly, the seniors, the aging and aged, and, last but not least, the old farts.
Excuse my bluntness, pardon my directness. Reducing the revolting predicament to a few basic words makes it clearer and more digestible, don’t you think?
I was in my late 50's when the weight of the iron increased notably, becoming ever more resistant to my persuasion. In addition, the price I was obliged to pay per pound rose substantially, leaving my sweatpants bare and baggy and my tank top loose and droopy. Till then there was tough joy in our partnership, but I, in my greediness, demanded more than I could give.
Alas, these are the times that try men’s souls. Kicking and screaming, flipping, flopping and flailing, I acquiesced to the certain and willful direction of time, as would any madman being led to the guillotine, firing squad, hangman’s noose or electric chair.
I thank God daily for my strength and courage.
Here’s a question I’m frequently asked by faithful ironheads: How do you confront aging and old age, muscle and might? Well lets see the body no longer tolerates the majority of aas. I am left with test/deca/eq/primo/var/and my big jug of gw sarms.Now don't feel sorry for me, because those aas that I do tolerate will get the job done.
Hmmm, let me sneer sneer as I stroke my chin, eyes focused intently on an undefinable object in a distant place. An appropriate question. I am, I suspect, in the midst of it all. Gone are the days when one asked me how to build barn-door lats or turkey-leg forearms. Rather, concern has been directed to sagging pecs and lagging zeal.
Body, mind and spirit, none are spared time’s reckoning. Each, singly and together, are witness of and subject to the stroke of time. Some folks greet the stream of time with open arms and a grin, knowing something I don’t. Living life keeps them busy, entertained and fulfilled. Others suffer each day as a burden, bearing its wearisome daily passage as a chore. Living life escapes them; they deny the gift and they waste away.
Old age sneaks up on you, like a thief in the night. One day your 39… uh-oh… and the next day you’re 50... OMG… Blink-blink and you’re what? 60… gasp… or is it 59? We get so confused. Then one day out of nowhere -- Surprise -- one of us is 67.
Hello… Don’t blame me. It’s not my fault. It happened. I didn't plan on this happening, and actually thought that me...DrB was exempt.Daaamm
It’s no fun, the thought of aging. But, when welcomed with open arms and lived day by day, it’s wonderful and exciting, a challenging and instructive catastrophe. You grow accustom to its face.
Of course, that’s once you submit to, get over and accept deterioration, limitation and aggravation, throbs, aches and pains, stooping, shrinking and shrieking; stumbling and mumbling, snorting and gurgling and forgetting.
Scuze me. Who are you and what are we doing here? Oh we are here at the gym? To do what ? Just kidding!
Next week (note the optimism) I’ll offer my insights, observations, cautions, paranoia (’nother joke, I’m on a roll), fixes and fixations. But first I must invent them.
We are, after all, going to live till we die… lift away boys.
My diet stays spot on and I just take plates off. Ahh..not like the young drb who slapped every plate he could on. Now I just slao them off. BUT I learned something. Take those weights and become one with them. I focus on every rep, slowly and consciencly.Perefect form with bad bad intentions of building some muscle.
Those who despise aging are the ones who get old. Oh come on drb I can't lift anymore I quit. Yep he got old.So here is the advice as you get old. You make adaptations and you keep on truckin. Something hurts...then work around it. No more bench presses. If you take a look at the shoulder girdle and rotator cuff and watch a slo mo bench press you can see why it WILL lead to injury. I also have a pain in my wrist that really hurts doing barbell curls. BUT if I go todumbell curls I can angle my wrist so that it does not hurt.So don't stop the weighs...ever. Work around everything that tries to tell you that you are old and get going...and Mr Old Age might not catch you so quickly.
Then put up this force shield called 200 test-150 deca-800 primo. Run that sucker for 12 weeks.Oh but wait...don't stop...up that primo to 1000mg and go another 6 weeks. I just scared the living shit out of old age..lol.
Take care boys, lift with joy in your hearts.
DrB
I’m addressing any one of the aforementioned categories, adding the mature and maturing, the elders and elderly, the seniors, the aging and aged, and, last but not least, the old farts.
Excuse my bluntness, pardon my directness. Reducing the revolting predicament to a few basic words makes it clearer and more digestible, don’t you think?
I was in my late 50's when the weight of the iron increased notably, becoming ever more resistant to my persuasion. In addition, the price I was obliged to pay per pound rose substantially, leaving my sweatpants bare and baggy and my tank top loose and droopy. Till then there was tough joy in our partnership, but I, in my greediness, demanded more than I could give.
Alas, these are the times that try men’s souls. Kicking and screaming, flipping, flopping and flailing, I acquiesced to the certain and willful direction of time, as would any madman being led to the guillotine, firing squad, hangman’s noose or electric chair.
I thank God daily for my strength and courage.
Here’s a question I’m frequently asked by faithful ironheads: How do you confront aging and old age, muscle and might? Well lets see the body no longer tolerates the majority of aas. I am left with test/deca/eq/primo/var/and my big jug of gw sarms.Now don't feel sorry for me, because those aas that I do tolerate will get the job done.
Hmmm, let me sneer sneer as I stroke my chin, eyes focused intently on an undefinable object in a distant place. An appropriate question. I am, I suspect, in the midst of it all. Gone are the days when one asked me how to build barn-door lats or turkey-leg forearms. Rather, concern has been directed to sagging pecs and lagging zeal.
Body, mind and spirit, none are spared time’s reckoning. Each, singly and together, are witness of and subject to the stroke of time. Some folks greet the stream of time with open arms and a grin, knowing something I don’t. Living life keeps them busy, entertained and fulfilled. Others suffer each day as a burden, bearing its wearisome daily passage as a chore. Living life escapes them; they deny the gift and they waste away.
Old age sneaks up on you, like a thief in the night. One day your 39… uh-oh… and the next day you’re 50... OMG… Blink-blink and you’re what? 60… gasp… or is it 59? We get so confused. Then one day out of nowhere -- Surprise -- one of us is 67.
Hello… Don’t blame me. It’s not my fault. It happened. I didn't plan on this happening, and actually thought that me...DrB was exempt.Daaamm
It’s no fun, the thought of aging. But, when welcomed with open arms and lived day by day, it’s wonderful and exciting, a challenging and instructive catastrophe. You grow accustom to its face.
Of course, that’s once you submit to, get over and accept deterioration, limitation and aggravation, throbs, aches and pains, stooping, shrinking and shrieking; stumbling and mumbling, snorting and gurgling and forgetting.
Scuze me. Who are you and what are we doing here? Oh we are here at the gym? To do what ? Just kidding!
Next week (note the optimism) I’ll offer my insights, observations, cautions, paranoia (’nother joke, I’m on a roll), fixes and fixations. But first I must invent them.
We are, after all, going to live till we die… lift away boys.
My diet stays spot on and I just take plates off. Ahh..not like the young drb who slapped every plate he could on. Now I just slao them off. BUT I learned something. Take those weights and become one with them. I focus on every rep, slowly and consciencly.Perefect form with bad bad intentions of building some muscle.
Those who despise aging are the ones who get old. Oh come on drb I can't lift anymore I quit. Yep he got old.So here is the advice as you get old. You make adaptations and you keep on truckin. Something hurts...then work around it. No more bench presses. If you take a look at the shoulder girdle and rotator cuff and watch a slo mo bench press you can see why it WILL lead to injury. I also have a pain in my wrist that really hurts doing barbell curls. BUT if I go todumbell curls I can angle my wrist so that it does not hurt.So don't stop the weighs...ever. Work around everything that tries to tell you that you are old and get going...and Mr Old Age might not catch you so quickly.
Then put up this force shield called 200 test-150 deca-800 primo. Run that sucker for 12 weeks.Oh but wait...don't stop...up that primo to 1000mg and go another 6 weeks. I just scared the living shit out of old age..lol.
Take care boys, lift with joy in your hearts.
DrB
