My heart’s in the squat rack, my heart is not here
My heart’s in the squat rack, a-lifting to clear
A-lifting to clear, and improving my throws,
My heart’s in the squat rack, wherever I go.
*
O my gains are like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June;
O my gains are like the melodie
That’s sweetly play’d in tune.
As fair art thou, my bonnie gains,
So deep in luve am I:
And I will luve them still, my gains,
Till my Muscle Milk gang dry:
Till Muscle Milk gang dry, my gains,
And my traps melt wi’ the sun:
I will luve them still, my dear,
While my clean bulking runs.
*
Is for honest vascularity
That hings his head, an’ a’ that;
The cardio fiend – we pass him by,
We dare be flat for a’ that!
For a’ that, an’ a’ that,
Our toils obscure an’ a’ that,
The DOMS are but the guinea’s stamp,
The man’s the gowd for a’ that.
What though on protein shakes we dine,
And bulk, and tone, an’ a’ that?
Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine,
A man’s a man for a’ that.
For a’ that, an’ a’ that,
Glamour muscles show, an’ a’ that,
The honest lifter, tho’ e’er sae poor,
Is king o’ men for a’ that.
*
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
and your arms not spot mine?
Can you provide a spot, my jo,
I’ll spot if you spot mine,
I’ve several sets left to go yet,
Then I’ll be spotting thine.
And surely ye’ll work in with me!
and I’ll help thee rack thine!
And we’ll tak’ a couple drop sets left,
for auld lang syne.
We twa hae run about the rack,
and bench bodyweight fine;
But we’ve wander’d mony a weary fit,
sin’ egg whites and cysteine.
Tags: bro do you even lift, expunge the poet Burns from your mind, poetry, robert burns
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To a Cardio Bunny
Wee, sleekit, joggin’, aerobicized beastie!
Is there nae protein in thy breastie?
Thou need not use the elliptical so hasty,
Nor count th’ calories yer burnin’!
My gains would flee were I to chase thee;
I’m too busy earnin’!
O wad some Pow’r the Arnold gie us
To see oursels as ithers see us!
It wad frae mony a step class free us,
An’ foolish motion:
What airs in spandex an’ Nikes wad lea’e us,
An’ ev’n body lotion!
Scots, wha hae wi’ Wallace pressed,
Scots, wham Bruce has aften trained,
Welcome tae yer personal best
Or a nasty sprain!
This is as good a place as any for noting that I live down the street from a statue of Mr. Robert Burns and a part of my daily routines involves saying ‘how’s it going Robbie?’ on my way to and from work?
Is that statue near a couple of large-ish universities? Because I work by that statue and I also greet Wee Robbie.
http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/d/d…
Nope. It’s just in a town that had a lot of Scottish stonecutters at one point.
I am weirdly glad there are multiple Burns statues scattered around the States.
Stealth Burns. He pops up when and where you least expect him.
Someone put this to a dance beat immediately. I will listen to naught else while wrestling the squat rack.
The Selkirk Pump
Some hae weight and canna lift,
And some wad lift that want it,
But we hae weight and we can lift,
Sae let the Lord be thankit.
This is everything I never knew I wanted.
I agree!
O wad some Pow'r the Arnold gie us
To see oursels as ithers see us!
It wad frae mony a step class free us,
An' foolish motion:
What airs in spandex an' Nikes wad lea'e us,
An' ev'n body lotion!
I’M SCREAMING WITH JOY THANK YOU MALLORY
I am weirdly glad there are multiple Burns statues scattered around the States.
The sweetest hours that e’er I spent
were spent among the lifters O
This was tremendous. Milton version?
Of Man’s first set, and the powder
Of that forbidden supplement whose mortal taste
Brought gains into the world, and all our woe,
With loss of body-image, till one deeper squat
Restore us, and regain the blissful pump,
My heart's in the highlands– this brings back vaguely traumatic memories of my being in a women's choir in high school. We were forced to sing a god-awful arrangement of that insipid tripe and we were RESENTFUL about it. Picture, if you will, suburban teenagers warbling passive-aggressively at their instructor with hatred in their eyes: "My HEAAAAART'S in the HIIIIIGHlands my HEAAAAAArt is NAAA-OOOT HEEEEERE. My heart's in the highlands a-chasing the DEEE–seriously, deer? Ugh."