I was actually in the middle of writing another post when I started discussing this analogy within it and realized that THIS was what I wanted to write today, so here we are. Gathering around the fire is one of the most romanticized images in our human existence, a notion dating back to our earliest ancestors eeking out an existence out in the wilderness after having achieved the mastery of fire and, in doing so, securing our place outside of the state of nature ever so slightly as the group that would one day grow to become the greatest apex predators in existence. It was around these communal fires that security and shelter were established, food was cooked and victories were celebrated. The communal fire was were cavepeople found warmth and comfort, where the Mongols heated up their shields and combined various food spoils of war to create the Mongolian grill (allegedly), and, ultimately, where stories, myths and legends were shared. And in doing so, I’m already sharing stories, myths and legends ABOUT sharing stories, myths and legends, because who knows for sure if this ever really happened around these fires or if it’s just something we created in order to perpetuate our own romantic ideals in order to have something worth striving for…but, in that regard, what does it matter if it’s true? Which is the same thing to ask when it comes time to share these stories around our communal fire. Let’s not let a little thing like truth get in the way of a good story.
This was a lie told in a story about a sport that didn't exist...which made the story even better
These
community fires are what we once had in the gyms and training centers of the
world. Lifters would come together and
share ideas, stories, and theories on physical transformation. It was the science lab, where things were
getting tested, results were being observed, ideas were being chained and
linked together, and ultimately a cultural tapestry was being weaved with the
stories, myths and legends of the iron.
This was supplemented (pun partially intended) with whatever the Muscle
Mag du jour had to say that month regarding whatever the current Mr Wonderful
was eating, drinking and doing in their training, or whatever wild bit of
prophecy Louie Simmons released in this month’s issue of Powerlifting USA, but
the information flow was a trickle, sparse, and you could die from thirst
trying to drink from it. Instead, you’d
have your local pocket of mythology, your tribal customs and culture that was
amalgamated from whatever the resident big guy had shared from his own iron
mountain and the remaining bro-science necessary to cover whatever gaps you
had.
What SHOULD
have happened with the advent of the internet and subsequent development of
forums and social media? A much BIGGER
fire for us to gather around and, in turn, more stories to share. We SHOULD have developed a RICHER culture
with this opportunity to share. Instead,
we sterilized ourselves. We eliminated
our culture. We banished stories,
because we had no more room for myths and legends in the face of “facts”.
Oh yeah, this is SO much better than art deco...
“God is
dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. How shall we comfort ourselves,
the murderers of all murderers? What was holiest and mightiest of all that the
world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives: who will wipe this
blood off us? What water is there for us to clean ourselves? What festivals of
atonement, what sacred games shall we have to invent? Is not the greatness of
this deed too great for us? Must we ourselves not become gods simply to appear
worthy of it?”
Nietzsche
spoke of the same process there: we killed our mythology and replaced our god
with science, and in doing so created this idea that there is only ONE “true”
way to achieve physical transformation.
But, young philosophers, as the esteemed Dr. Jones pointed out: don’t
not mistake fact for truth!
Also another great philosophical quip
I’m getting
away from myself here, let me wrangle it back.
Instead of using this greater sharing capacity to share more stories,
people have used it as an opportunity to “fact check” the story tellers. One mentions Super Squats story of gaining
30lbs of muscle in 6 weeks and the response is “that’s scientifically
impossible, reference these studies that discuss the exact amount of muscle one
can put on in a 6 week timeframe”. They
hear the diet of a gallon of milk a day and the response is “according to the
latest research, no one needs that much of a caloric surplus to put on
muscle”. And, of course, they hear the
program and retort “according to my favorite influencer, you don’t need to
train that hard to grow muscle, and barbell squats are an outdated and
unnecessary movement.”
And in all
of this, the fact checkers are failing to understand the POINT of a story. As I wrote: never let a little thing like
“the truth” get in the way of a good story.
When stories were shared around the communal fire, the intent was NOT to
relay a 100% factual telling of an event that occurred. A person who does such a thing is NOT a
storyteller: they are simply a parrot.
The talent of a storyteller is to captivate the audience, lure them in,
keep their attention and, ultimately, impart a message upon them. The audience should leave the story with more
than what they entered with: a lesson, a message, a “takeaway”. In the story of Super Squats, sure: we get a
training program and a diet. But what we
take AWAY from the story of Super Squats is that, in order to achieve
extraordinary results in the weight room, one must execute extraordinary effort
in their training AND in their diet. Is
the 30lbs of muscle in 6 weeks fabrication?
Perhaps. Perhaps it’s a bit of a
fish story, where the truth was stretched in order to make things more
exciting. Does it matter? No, because the LESSON of the story is what
is important here. Every trainee who
undergoes a legit 6 weeks of Super Squats is transformed at the end of it, not
just physically, but spiritually. Their
entire BEING is different, for now they are a creature that knows OBSESSIVE
hard work in the gym and in the kitchen.
They know how to live, eat, and breath(ing squat) pursuit of physical
transformation, and what drove them to even undertake this journey was the
STORY of Super Squats, shared around our communal fire, by wild-eyed
storytellers spinning myths and legends.
Whatever story he's telling, I'm listening to
NO ONE at
the communal fire appreciates that person interrupting the story to interject
their thoughts on the factual accuracy of the telling. It takes no talent to say “there’s no way
that could have happened”. No one needs
to hear that John Henry couldn’t possibly outperform a railroad spike driving
machine in a competition, or that there were 7000 Greeks to include the 300
Spartans at the Battle of Thermopylae, or any of your other gee whiz useful
trivia here. A good story is going to
have some embellishment to it, because reality is boring: it’s why we are
striving to transform ourselves into something DIFFERENT from our own
reality. It’s why we are so eager to
share our stories and hear the stories of others: because we strive to share
and learn as much as we can in order to have the existence we feel is our
birthright, through our effort and intensity.
Gather
around the fire and share some stories, and listen to the stories of
others. Don’t listen with the intent to
disprove, but to understand. To
understand WHY the storyteller is telling the story, and what lessons the story
holds. And, in turn, you may one day be
the subject of a story.
