Lifestyle

Twenty plus years ago I had one of the original hardcore, underground, warehouse-style training facilities. Renegade Gym. The music was loud and angry. The attitude was pure ruthless aggression. The floor, covered with chalk. The walls with blood. The closet doors had holes in them. Some from a headbutt before a new PR attempt. Others from the many scuffles that broke out during an intense squat day. This was not a place you came to “exercise,” or “work out.” You came to train. continue reading.

On my flight back from Seattle I sat next to a 52 year old guy named Dexter. Cool dude who was super easy to talk to. I love meeting new people and flapping my gums to just about anyone. So we rapped for most of the three hours. We talked about psychology, mindset, leadership, marketing, evolution, political correctness and the pussification of man. He told me about his recent foray into lifting and what he was doing in the gym. Seemed to be really into it and said he felt… continue reading.