Believe you me, Earthling, it’s a weird feeling to walk out of a room full of strongmen so you can have a good cry in the hall.
I had waited for months to attend the workshop and now I was here. The flights had been difficult and the cost hadn’t been cheap, but I would have flown ten times as far and paid ten times as much for what I would learn in this room.
Except I had to get out of there. The tics were horrible. I was having a hard time enjoying something I’d looked forward to for a long time.
Some of the strongest people I’ve ever met were in the room. A world record holder. People I look up to. People I love and admire. Some of my greatest mentors and best friends. And plenty of new friends as well.
I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. In the hall, all the frustration of the morning’s tics just poured out.
A weird feeling
I got it over with quickly and went back in.
If anyone had walked out into the hall while I was getting it out of my system, I would have been mortified, even though they would have understood. But none of them came out.
When I returned, I stayed in the back of the room for the next five hours and listened. Alone but calm. Apart but under control. And that’s always the story. We are each alone in our own heads and bodies. No matter how many friends we have. No matter how many people love us.
There are times when it’s just you and you and me and me. It’s a good thing to like yourself, incidentally, since you have to spend a lot of time with yourself.
That has always been one of the hardest things for me to deal with, as far as Tourette’s goes: it can get very lonely. At times it feels like nobody can step into these shoes, and that’s all right–they’re too big for most people, anyways.
And the whole workshop was being recorded for a DVD! A DVD that many of you will probably buy when I review it. This will potentially reach tens of thousands of buyers this year, and I’m in every minute of it, barking my fool head off and chewing my mouth to pieces.
I like to think that I sound like a mastiff, but it’s probably going to come out like some yappy little nightmare from the Eukanuba cup.
Did I mention that it was a wonderful workshop?
Some things I learned and overheard
I can’t go into 1/100th of what I learned, but I’ll give you the broad strokes from GripNRip 2010 in Minneapolis. Some of these are profound, some are just funny. I can’t even begin to recreate the context:
- The knowledge of the typical trainer is beyond pitiful. It’s so bad that I don’t even know how to talk about it.
- “I don’t like your aftershave. Wipe it off.”
- Bending horseshoes is really painful. I may have to post a picture of my bruise.
- “Never underestimate the power of stupidity. I can lock most people in a room with no furniture or exit. I can give them two steel balls, come back in 30 minutes, and one ball is lost, the other’s broken”
- If you must work your core, there’s no better way to do it than sitting next to Adam Glass and laughing after he’s drank 100 ounces of Guinness.
- Brad Nelson is the Einstein of mobility work. The day is coming when I will be cured of Tourette’s. He will be one of the reasons why
- There is no reason to wait months for results that can be had in seconds
- “Every 18 year old in America wants to be a UFC fighter or a Navy Seal”
- Most people do not honor their bodies or their biology
- It is each of our birthrights to be better all the time
- Hard work is not the same as dedicated, smart work
- Hard work is not the answer
- “Here is a year’s supply of 100 glow sticks. Go have fun.”
- Better to be a master than a martyr
- Nobody is qualified to coach you but you
- suicidedevice.com is not going to be a big seller
- “…and he always wears that ball gag, so he’ll never respond to your plese for mercy, so quit dropping the weights…”
The best, the worst
It might be the most fun I’ve ever had in a weekend. It might also be the most misery I’ve ever packed into an eight-hour stretch (on DVD!) on the day of the workshop.
But I saw a lot of good friends and made some new ones. I got stronger and I ate good food.
And most of those friends would have tracked me down and murdered me if I would have left because I thought I might be distracting them.
That’s when you know you’re loved.
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