|
2000:
January
| February
| March
| April
| May
| June
| July
| August
| September
| October
| ... |
|
||
|
February
2000 Hail to the Knuckle-Draggers! How many times have you heard people say things like, "There will never be a black president in my lifetime!" Women often lament the fact that there has yet to be a female president. Well my bodybuilding brethren, the next time you hear one of these groups whining about the fact that one of their own has yet to ascend to the oval office, please tell them to shut their pie hole. There will be a multitude of women and a plethora of blacks elected president before we ever see a bodybuilder as the chief executive. In fact, I would guess that a black female midget with two teeth and a raging case of alopecia would have a better shot in the presidential race then any top national or professional bodybuilder. Unfortunately, a small segment of the bodybuilding community has ruined our image and we all get viewed through the same narrow prism. I'm talking about the kind of individual who wears a string tank to the mall in the dead of winter, the kind of guy who's hitting his mandatories while in line at Taco Bell. We've all seen these individuals before, you ask them the time and they immediately launch into a most muscular. With sweat streaming down their face and veins ready to spew forth the steroid-laden blood that barely courses through their hypertensive bodies, they turn to you and bellow, "4:15 pinner! Time to grow!" Now, I've got mixed emotions about buffoons like this. Certainly they act in a fashion that gives bodybuilders a bad name, and as such, we all tend to get colored by the same brush. At the same time, they are and endless source of amusement for me. My friends and I have enjoyed hours of countless merriment watching the juvenile dick-measuring contests that take place in the gym, the constant jockeying for position in the heated world of gym politics. At times bodybuilding hearkens back to the dawn of man, bringing out primal instincts not only in the athletes themselves, but those they come into contact with as well. Some of the best workouts I've ever had were the result of tapping into some ancient, animalistic aggression that allowed me to push myself to a point I never thought possible. However, many bodybuilders seem to regress further and further into a stone-age mentality as their biceps measurements increase. You'll often see guys like these traveling in packs, seeking to terrorize the denizens of normal society. Compounding this problem is that the average citizen is scared shitless of the steroid subculture that breeds these boneheads. These packs can smell fear like a 4th of July barbecue and won't hesitate to intimidate anyone reeking of victim. Now the kind of intimidation I'm referring to is nothing overt, it usually doesn't even constitute a verbal exchange. However, imagine yourself in the shoes of the 150 lb businessman in an elevator with 3 260+ plus infantile monsters. The poor businessman is immediately transported back to the caveman days, and envisions himself surrounded by three humungous oafs with very large clubs, ready to take his hard earned saber-tooth tiger shoes or the giant wooly squirrel he just killed to feed his family. The fact that these overgrown children can sense his fear and discomfort adds an additional unpleasant element to the whole scenario. Once the elevator doors are open, the businessman rushes out, slowly realizing he's in the 21st century and doesn't need to worry about his saber-tooth shoes. And the three buffoons? They have a hearty laugh at his expense, knowing their awesome muscular size alone has nearly emptied the bladder of yet another non-bodybuilder. The problem with individuals like this is that they are completely one-dimensional. They live for the sport. Certainly bodybuilding requires a great degree of dedication in order to succeed. However, there is a definite line between dedication and obsession. While at the Olympia last year we noticed a guy running around in a lifting suit and an absolutely enormous cooler supported by a shoulder strap. For the next three days he wore the same outfit, although he did manage to change lifting suits, we could tell because of the difference in colors. Admittedly, the Olympia is a freak show and you see every possible permutation of mental illness walking around. However, this individual struck me as particularly pathetic, simply because it was evident he had no life whatsoever outside the sport. He's the kind of guy that probably doesn't have any friends because he can't relate to anyone not as "hardcore" (read: neurotic) as himself. How happy can you be when you're at the Mr. Olympia, supposedly enjoying yourself, and you're carting around 20 lbs of cooler and food wherever you go? Bodybuilding has to be just like any other of life's activities, you can't let it be the end all be all of your existence!! Have you ever seen the tension created when the dominant bodybuilder in any health club is suddenly challenged by a muscular equal? They behavior exhibited is fascinating, worthy of study by National Geographic or the Learning Channel. I can see the show now, being narrated by a Brit with a very bad accent. "Here we see the very large and oily bodybuilder, who we've tagged and labeled as Lump, overseeing his realm. However, the peaceful stillness of his domain is about to be broken by the entrance of an outsider, and even bigger and oilier bodybuilder we've labeled as Loaf. It's immediately clear from Lumps demeanor that he feels threatened by this intrusion into his territory. Watch as he quickly averts his eyes from Loaf, not wanting to give the bigger animal any indication that he's been spotted. As you will see, Lump will display the typical behavior of an animal in his position, gravitating towards his pack for physique reinforcements. As covertly as possible, Lump and the rest of the pack attempt to monitor Loaf's activities, gathering as much information as possible on his strengths and weaknesses. Unfortunately for Lump, Loaf is a bigger, stronger breed of bodybuilder. They can only hope that he's passing through their territory and that his stay won't be long." How many times have you seen this scenario played out? Here's an idea! Walk across the gym, introduce yourself, and shake the guys hand! Right about now your probably asking yourself, what the hell is the point of this article? We'll, I'm glad you asked. To one extent or another, everyone reading this article probably considers themselves to be a bodybuilder. I know I certainly do. As such, every time I leave my house, I take it upon myself to become an ambassador for the sport. People looking at me are obviously going to judge the next 300 lb. muscular bald guy by my actions. It's my hope that I leave a good impression. Bodybuilders intimidate people. I know I do. I remember my first trip to the grocery store after shaving my head. I couldn't get eye contact from anybody, and as I was pushing my cart out to my car, a woman whose car I was passing actually panicked and locked her doors. I can't help the fact that I scare people, but I can do my best to dispel these fears by treating people with respect. Look, having big muscles doesn't make you any better than anyone else, nor is it a license to terrorize the rest of society. We are stereotyped as monosyllabic lummoxes, prone to violent outbursts. Don't perpetuate this myth by acting like an asshole. Meuller out. Copyright 2000 Jason Meuller and Anabolic Extreme. This material may not be copied, reproduced, or transmitted without the express written permission of the copyright owners. |
2
|
||
|
|