Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Iron Man?

Back to the weights again.

The weights. They've given me the edge throughout my life, ever since I was a 98-pound weakling in fifth grade at St. Paul's School in Brooklyn NY. I convinced my Mom to buy me my first 110-pound set for my thirteenth birthday; that was the recommended age to start because Joe Weider said so. I was so weak I could barely carry the bar, my Mom and my friend Kenny had to carry the box of plates. They helped me evolve into a 147-pound wolverine through high school, and I eventually became a 185-pound Broadway Turk Superstar throughout my NYC rock career with the Spoiler and the Ducky Boys.

When I left NYC for Texas, all I took with me was my love for lifting. I got back into it and was amazed to discover there was life (and size) beyond the Big Apple, pumping myself up to 240 (with a 400-lb bench press and a 500-lb squat) to pursue my childhood dream of pro wrestling. I toiled in the minor leagues for four years before hanging it up and putting the plates away. Seven years later, I made a comeback at Kuk Sool Won on the road to a martial arts degree. It ended in Independence MO where I tore my arms up, the left one at Universal Hapkido and the right one at the Cave, a submission fighting school (you think I would've taken the hint). In between I managed to find closure with my dreams of ice hockey in Gladstone MO. I was a glacier on the ice, I wrecked enough guys to get kicked out of the league.

So why go back now? defines me. That big bad wrestling persona was Broadway Turk before he ever set foot in a wrestling ring. It makes the SPOILER what it is, it gives me the edge and the self-confidence to get up on there and say, this is our stage, we own it, it's our spotlight until we're done. We play hard, driving, physical rock and roll, and one look at us tells you we can do it...before we play one note.

Lifting weights is the most challenging form of exercise there is. In other sports, when you get tired you can stop. When you got 500 pounds of metal on your shoulders, if you give up you are a dead man. It tests your skill, your nerve, your desire, your character. Whenever I look in the mirror and question the reflection, I head downstairs to the basement where the bench and the rack await.

So, if this is the end of my career, I can't think of a better way to go out. Rock hard and feeling mean. They may not be sorry, but they won't dare laugh until I'm long gone.

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