Looks like its been some…200 and something odd days since I last visited this place. I guess I should maybe make this into some sort of rambling/constant stream of thought/VERY one sided conversation. I’ll put this here now so I know it’s here:

I’m not going to make a public display of my private life.

Not limited to, but including:

  • Relationships
  • Relation-shits
  • Family matters
  • …That’s all I can think of right now.

Man, looks like some sort of official document…

Like I said, just a series of train-of-thought. It’s not a diary per se, I mean, I’ll probably put stuff like:

“Got up. Had a dump.”

“Man, sometimes people are such buttholes”

“Today, I did this thing”







I guess I’ll write about some things that happen. Like, Oh I dunno… If I get a job or something like that.

I won’t proof read. I might write gibberish. STUFF.


Time is: 22:39 (how long until I get distracted by something on the internet?)

Listening to: Vesta by Soilwork (I’m not too far from the end of the album)

If you look backwards through this blog you’ll see this post: https://cjwilmut.wordpress.com/2013/09/29/one-a-totally-unrelated-note-iron-and-the-soul-200lbs-will-always-be-200lbs/

Says: "Unrelated" pssh, it fucking is related.

To University it isn’t. Uni is the reason I started this blog. Otherwise I wouldn’t be sat here at 22:59 making minimal progress on writing…something. I’d probably be playing X:COM Enemy Within (man that game is surprisingly hard to put down) maybe even, Titanfall or Battlefield. <— Irrelevant. Distraction.

Back to the point

Today, picked up a barbell for the first time since….July. Yeah, mid July (2014). Got one and some plates from my Uncle. Took em out into the backyard and taught my brother how to squat and lunge correctly. He’s only 16 but about a foot taller than me

Not really, just feels like that purely because he's a bit taller.

Soilwork’s Parasite Blues has started playing. I think, because he’s grown up so quick he’s a little top heavy as his balance on his ankles is a little off but we’ll sort that out. Like I was saying. Henry fucking nails it with that essay right? Don’t get me wrong, when I was about 1.(roughly) 5 stone heavier from lifting and eating like a mad man, there was a sense of “Man, I feel better about myself because I look a bit better”. No matter what anybody says, that will always be an almost..unconscious? Thought. Who doesn’t want to look better? However, that isn’t what did it for me. Lifting was my stress reliever. Almost everything had its exercise to help relieve some stress:

Pissed because I’ve got a lot of work?


Relationship stuff?


Fucking..anything? A problem? Bah I don’t care. Not when I was in the gym. 1 – 3 rep MAX squats with a pause at the bottom. Man, there’s just something about that feeling of “OH HOLY FUCK MY LEGS ARE GOING TO EXPLODE” that feels, just…straight up awesome. The squat is the greatest exercise. Ever. PERIOD.

Lower. SLOWLY. Sit. Wait (weight hur hur). Wait..keep. Fucking. Waiting. GO. Stand up. 

Come on you bitch, stand up! Stand. UP. Push. Push. PUSH. 

You’re there. Stood at the top.

The struggle of building strength through weight training is an immensely calming sensation. On the surface you look like shit. Veins protrude through your skin. Your face burning bloody red. You look like some sort of comic Satan straining for a shit but you don’t notice any of that. I tend to think that my brain runs on overdrive that’s why I get distracted so easily sometimes but when you’re in a rack/cage with a bar across your back there’s only a handful of things that matter. Aww man you’re partner is leaving you because you just don’t cut for them anymore? Pah, doesn’t matter. You haven’t got that thing done for that deadline and you’re panicking? Doesn’t. Matter. Not here. A handful of things matter here and its this:

  • Breathing
  • Form
  • Successfully completing the movement.

It was the one place I could and would forget about anything. Hell, sometimes you’d use whatever was on your mind as fuel.

And trust me, you'll have a fucking good session when that happens.

[Machine Head: Now We Die is playing]

Where was I?

Picked up a barbell today. In the garden.

Oh yeah. Some lunges. That’s all I did. I’d rather not squat without a rack as, I find, you can’t quite squeeze your traps together in quite the same way as you would lifting off a rack, I can’t remember how many sets I did. 12 reps a time but I kept swapping weight in and out. It was cool doing that with my brother. To be honest, having a training partner is always good. You can feed off of each other. Competition. Sometimes you just gotta lift on your own though.




In 6 or so months of being home I’ve lost, more or less all the weight I’d gained at uni.

And you're complaining?
It wasn't weight I wanted to lose. 

The loss of all that progression really bums me out. The time, the eating, the discipline and the un-social-ish-ness (don’t get me wrong though, I met some wicked great people!)

Oh and the pain. Anyone who trains knows DOMs
but, it's a nice pain. It's what lets you know you broke ground

but then I remember, I now have some Iron I can abuse.

And as Henry puts it:

“The Iron never lies to you. You can walk outside and listen to all kinds of talk, get told that you’re a god or a total bastard. The Iron will always kick you the real deal. The Iron is the great reference point, the all-knowing perspective giver. Always there like a beacon in the pitch black.”


Now listening to Henry Rollins – Spoken Word Guy.

– Signing off for tonight.


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