Some people think we’re meatheads.
Some people think that if you lift weights and you enjoy it, that you must be stupid. That there must be some part of you so unintelligent that you don’t mind the pain, that you don’t mind the routine, that you don’t mind picking up heavy things and putting them back down. They think there must be some refinement or intellectual advantage lacking in you—you, this poor, undeveloped piece of humanity—who likes the iron and the steel and the pain of pushing through to get stronger.
These people (the ones who judge, not the unaware) run or walk or go to dance class or do yoga or just sit on their bums and do nothing. They don’t try the barbell or dumbbells and you’re not going to find them trying to climb the rope. (“We’re not in 5th grade anymore,” they might say to you.) They don’t like strength training or CrossFit, they don’t see the value in any of it, and they’re sure to let you know that.
Let them go.
You can’t save them. You can’t save anyone, really. Maybe yourself, if you try. Maybe your kids if you’ve been a good example. But you can’t save strangers on the internet, or coworkers, or neighbors. We each do what we find compelling. My idea of compelling is not necessarily anyone else’s idea of compelling. And neither is yours.
Love those people who don’t understand why you like to lift weights. Hug them, and then ignore them.
- Go lift your bumpers.
- Go hoist your dumbbells.
- Go sprint outside like a madman.
All we can do in this life is what works for us, and then serve as examples, for good and for bad. People notice both kinds of examples. What they do next is up to them, not you. And it always has been.