𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐄

Monday, Monday, Monday. 'Tis the day to either make or break your healthy exercise and eating routines. For some, the very idea of a new work week sparks feelings of tension and drums up whispers of provocation. It can be challenging to go from relaxation to stimulation but with thoughtful conviction, Monday can be muscled through. To quote one of my favourite authors: "caution is coolish... fear is foolish." Thanks, Draper. You're no sluggard. Sundays are meant to be enjoyed in the most relaxing ways possible, but when Monday hits... well, as the saying goes: "once again it's on." If you, like many others, have a tough time turning the dial from tranquil to tough, consider the first of your supposed five day drudgery as a sandbox to dust the tools off within. Tie those laces, get behind the wheel, make your way to the gym and assess the selection of sizeable toys before you. Each and every one of them possesses a different outcome for not only today, bu

Pumping, pressing, pulling. The transparent holy trinity of exercise. Where would we be without the three? The pressing happens when you're underneath an abominable amount of mass, most likely loaded onto your favourite barbell or leg press. The pulling ensues when you're cranking out rugged sets of chins or overly burdensome deadlifts. And the pumping? That takes place with clenched teeth and dumbbells in hand while powering through set after set of thumbs-up curls, though most refer to 'em as "hammer curls" nowadays, similar to how back-extensions in some way became "hyperextensions". Maybe I'll tweet about it. I'm hip... none of the time. I digress. Perform enough high quality, concentrated repetitions, and any one of the aforementioned trinity verbs synergistically evolves into a most rewarding burn . Over the past few weeks, I've been experimenting with high repetition sit-ups. This is exciting stuff. Hold my water. I'm placing my fe

Welcome, dear reader, to the first edition of what is sure to be an ongoing love letter dedicated to the journey I have thus far taken with my lionized Brother Iron and Sister Steel , an exceedingly formidable duo that has scratched, clawed and gnarled its way into being the most prominent constant of my life. At times, it feels as if I can vaguely remember the days prior to my falling in love with the lifting and tossing of all things metal, massive, heavy, and burdensome. Okay, okay, I can recollect a few of the months and years of not dutifully loading up my gym bag and venturing some 20-60 minutes away from home, solely for the sake of experimenting with some snazzy new barbell, dumbbell or colossal apparatus, but those days just didn't hold the same fulfillment that rooms full of heavy, hefty and weighty toys seemed to provide. I'm going to postulate that my meek beginnings with gyms in general began between 2009 and 2010, when wandering into the college gym, flanked by