A Lion in Iron

Within my daily training practice, I often get asked what is the best way to train for a particular goal. This often centers around how to expedite the process, something like "What is the fastest way I could lose twenty pounds of fat in X amount of weeks?" or "I want to weigh X amount, how fast can I gain muscle?" Before I answer, I always ask the following question.

“How hard are you willing to work, and are you willing to learn?”

If someone is zealous and gives me a “whatever it takes, I want to learn” response, I will likely want them as a client and we’ll have a great relationship.

If their answer is a wavering one of hesitancy or "I just want a routine" kind of answer, I’ll pass them along to someone else, because I’m not likely to be able to help them much. What’s interesting about this, is that often times the person's desired expectations are not impossible at all, and they are already in a position to achieve them—but they won't. Why is that?

Because it's HARD.

These kinds of people don’t like it when anything becomes hard, they don’t want nor do they have the desire to learn, and they want change to happen without any of the effort required to make such changes. These people are not strong, to say it simply. They want an “optimal” outcome, but they are not in any way willing to expend optimal effort for this outcome. For anyone that spends time studying the science of training for athletics and performance, the word optimal is one that comes up a lot. What is the optimal load? What is the optimal amount of stress? How can one optimize the recovery of the athlete? How can one optimize the adaptive response? What is ironic is that in many cases where people have the lifestyles to achieve the “optimal” results they want, they choose not to. Simply because it is “hard,” and they are not willing to be uncomfortable.

Inversely, I know many people whose lives are not in any way conducive to training at all, yet they bite down and train with fury. They do this because the alternative is to do nothing, and they wont accept that. When my father was in medical school, he often worked 80-100 hour work weeks. He still trained. He bought a treadmill, bought a pull-up and dip apparatus for the master bedroom, and he still trained. Even if it was twice a week for 30 minutes and he was exhausted, he was determined to still do something. He didn’t care, he didn’t complain, he found a way to train. For all the stress that was placed upon him, he never let himself grow physically weak. Mentality creates physicality, and his mind was always strong enough to keep himself physically going, even when his body likely said otherwise.

I always took that to heart, and I know I will always train regardless of circumstances. Whether or not my life outside of training makes it more “hard” is something I will never care about. If I have to train on four hours sleep at 5 a.m., then that’s when training shall happen. If I have to train at midnight after having started work at 6 a.m., that’s when training shall happen. I can fondly recall when I ruptured my hamstring, and went to the gym the next day, with my leg wrapped using a cane to walk. I could still train upper body and work my non-ruptured leg, so yes I was still training, and the pain could go to hell.

This doesn’t make me tough. My injuries are nothing compared to many other lifters I’ve come to know. Everyone has trained through pain and exhaustion that truly cares about this process. It’s a mark of dedication, and we will keep on doing it, regardless of how “hard” it can be. We are not expecting our lives to become “optimal." We all have lives outside training, we have personal and professional and perhaps familial responsibilities, and much of this may not be terribly conducive to optimizing our training—but it doesn’t matter. We are still going to put forth the effort.

Strength is hard shit. If someone is not willing to work hard at the start, they sure as hell won't be willing work hard to the end. Hard circumstances, then, will reveal the strength of a person, as will the avoidance of them. Strength is not represented by an avoidance of what is difficult, but the resolve to test one’s own strength against it. That’s what it means to overcome something and that’s what it means to get stronger. That’s the process, and it does not end. It doesn’t get any easier, because the weights get heavier. The more successful an individual becomes, the more responsibility that person will have. They will need to do more work to sustain that success. That’s all going to be hard. It is supposed to be hard.

You can use hard times to make yourself stronger, or not. Strength is always a choice, so pick one.