STRENGTH AND HOW TO OBTAIN IT

 

Learning from the Legendary Eugen Sandow

The 1897 (or 1899) cover of Strength and How to Obtain It. (courtesy Wikimedia)

     For some reason, over the last few days I have thought a lot about some of the old-time, turn-of-the-century strongmen.  I have written about some of them more than a time or two on this blog, men such as—in addition to Sandow—George Hackenschmidt, Louis Cyr, Arthur Saxon, and Hermann Goerner, to name a few.  If I’m honest, Hackenschmidt is probably my favorite.  He was not only one of the greatest strongmen and wrestlers this world has seen, but he was a prolific writer, could speak seven different languages, and developed a systematic philosophy of mind.  He was, in a word, a very cultured man.  (I will save Hackenschmidt for a much longer essay.)  But so was Sandow, and most of the other strongmen of that era, for that matter, as you may notice if you continue to read.

     I thought it would be good to do a semi-regular series on the above men (and, probably, quite a few more), and I thought I would begin with Sandow, if for no other reason than he’s probably the most well-known of all the other strongmen of this era, at least among average “rank and file” lifters and gym-goers these days.  I mean, even the winner of the Mr. Olympia receives the “Sandow trophy” for that accomplishment.

     What follows are some excerpts from Sandow’s most well-known book, “Strength and How to Obtain It,” which was published in 1897.  He published other works after this one, most notably a monthly periodical entitled “Sandow’s Magazine of Physical Culture.”  But he first laid out what he meant by “physical culture” in “Strength and How to Obtain It.”

     After each excerpt that I have chosen, I will add some brief commentary.  And if you’ve not encountered Sandow before this, I hope you enjoy…

(Note: all italicized writing is that of Sandow.)

Introduction

     In writing this book I have taken it as a commonplace that everyone—man, woman, and child—wants to be strong. Without strength—and by strength I mean health, vitality, and a general sense of physical well-being—life is but a gloomy business. Wealth, talent, ambition, the love and affection of friends, the pleasure derived from doing good to those about one, all these things may afford some consolation for being deprived of life’s chief blessing, but they can never make up for it. “But,” I am constantly being asked, “it is all very well for you to say this, and everyone of sense agrees with you; the point is, can we obtain this much-prized blessing?” In the vast majority of cases I can say unhesitatingly “Yes.” You can all be strong, all enjoy the heritage which was intended for you. Not all to the same extent, perhaps. Those who are afflicted with some hereditary disease, who may have unsound organs handed down to them, cannot reasonably expect to get such results as their more fortunate brethren. Still, even they need not despair; even if their condition be such as to put out of the question any such thing as athletics, they can, at all events, attain to such a condition as will permit of their enjoying life, and render them fit to carry on their work without difficulty. And after all, those who wish to be strong for this reason are innumerable. It is only the young and vigorous who desire to excel in athletic pastimes, but the middle-aged and elderly, the delicate women and young children, who yearn for health are countless.

Commentary:

     Sandow was the first man to bring the benefits of exercise and a healthy lifestyle to the masses.  His words here should ring just as true as when he wrote this almost 130 years ago.  It’s also quite clear that Sandow was concerned with the entirety of the people he lived, loved, and worked with, not just young men who wanted to be strength athletes or strongmen.  In fact, his “dumbbell course” was intended for the housewife as much as it was for the military man; he actively courted both of these populations when spreading his physical culture gospel.

     This also really rings true, I think, for those such as myself who have been training for 30+ years, and have to learn to focus on things other than just raw strength, power, and sheer muscle mass.  We can still challenge ourselves, no matter our age, with new challenges that aren’t just about pure, near-maximal strength.  I challenge myself now to do more endurance-style lifting, and other challenges, such as decreasing the time it takes me to walk a mile, which can still keep one motivated even when you can’t lift as heavy as you may like.

     All of us should “yearn for health,” no matter our age.

On Physical Culture

     It is curious to me to look back a year or two and to reflect upon the change in public opinion upon this subject which has taken place in so short a time. When I first began to preach the “gospel of health and strength” the general tendency was to make fun of me. Some people called me a fool; others, a charlatan. Very few indeed took the trouble to see whether there was anything in my theories, and to test for themselves their truth or falsity. That was, so to speak, only yesterday; what an alteration, and an alteration for the better, is to be observed to-day. I shall not be accused of undue egotism if I say that my ideas have “caught on.” All over the country, among the young, “physical culture” is now the rage, and that it is no mere passing fancy is proved by the fact that those who are no longer in their first youth are its equally devoted, though possibly less feverish, disciples.

     “And what is physical culture?” is naturally the question which arises to the lips of those to whom the subject is still unfamiliar. Let me begin by saying what it is not. To begin with, to suppose, as many people do suppose, that athletics and physical culture are the same thing is quite a mistaken notion. Then is physical culture opposed to athletics? Certainly not. Cricket and football and rowing and swimming, and, indeed, all forms of manly sport and exercise, are admirable things in their way, but they are not physical culture. A part of it, if you like; but physical culture is something far wider in its scope, infinitely loftier in its ideals.

     What was the ideal of the Greeks? They were ardent athletes, but their pastimes were only regarded as a means to an end. The Greeks regarded the culture of the body as a sacred duty; their aim was to bring it to the highest possible state of power and beauty, and we know how they succeeded. Surely what they succeeded in doing cannot be impossible for us.

     Does the reader now begin to get a clearer idea of what is meant by physical culture? As I have previously said, it is to the body what culture, in the accepted sense of the word, is to the mind. To constantly and persistently cultivate the whole of the body so that at last it shall be capable of anything that sound organs and perfectly developed muscles can accomplish—that is physical culture. The production, in short, of an absolutely perfect body—that is physical culture. To undo the evil for which civilization, and all the drawbacks it has brought in its train, have been responsible in making man regard his body lightly—that is the aim of physical culture. I think I am justified in saying that while it embraces every variety of athletics it goes very much further.

     Possibly there are people who will refuse to admit that this aim is in itself a desirable one. They may say that the sound body is only valuable in so far as it enables the sound mind to perform its work. This I regard as nonsensical cant. I absolutely and strenuously refuse to allow for an instant that the cultivation of the body is, per se, a comparatively valueless thing. On the contrary, I maintain that he who neglects his body—and not to cultivate it is to neglect it—is guilty of the worst sin; for he sins against Nature. I take my stand upon this then—that the care of the body is in itself an absolutely good thing, and its neglect is no more to be excused than is the neglect of the opportunities of mental advancement which have been placed in a man’s way. I am quite aware that it takes a very long time to thoroughly free ourselves from the trammels of old-established prejudice. I am quite prepared to hear of some worthy folk gravely shaking their heads and deprecating any great amount of attention being paid to the body as likely to engender undue vanity and self-esteem. I do not think that is likely to be so, but even if it should be the case I do not hold it to be such a grievous matter. If a man has striven his utmost to make the best of himself a certain amount of pride in the fact may well be forgiven him. Or, at all events, we can look upon his failing with the eye of charity.

Commentary:

     Here, “physical culture” is presented in a way that we may think of “wellness” in our current age, but it transcends that term or concept, as it rightly should.  Physical culture must be a way of life.  If it’s not, then it wouldn’t be physical culture.  In this way, also, I believe Sandow’s approach is closer to what we might see in those who take up yoga in the West as a physical practice.  Sure, it’s exercise.  And, sure, it’s good for the body.  But it’s also, for many of those who “get into it,” a way of life that focuses not just on the physical but also the mental, the emotional, and the spiritual.  It focuses on proper diet not just for being toned, or even in great shape, but as a way to keep the mind clear and pure, and as a way to prevent disease.  The same with diet and the rest of one’s daily life.  Now, I’m not recommending that anyone go out and start practicing yoga.  That’s not the point.  The point is to start practicing physical culture.  Make lifting only one aspect of your lifestyle, but one that greatly affects the rest of your life.

     Lifting should unite your body with your mind and, yes, even your spirit.  It should create what we might call “a cultured gentleman,” by doing these things.  When you are “cultured” you understand many different aspects of life—history, philosophy, science, etc.  The same with one who is physically cultured.  One must integrate all aspects of the physical life to truly be a physically cultured gentleman.  This includes not just diet and exercise, but mental and emotional therapeutics and training, and even the “spiritual” should be a part of this, as well.  The physically cultured man or woman must leave no stone unturned in their quest for perfection.

The “Magic” Cold Bath

     I am sometimes accused of being a bit of a faddist about the use of the cold bath, and possibly the heading of this chapter may give strength to that opinion. But its exhilarating and health-giving effects really justify the use of the adjective. The longer I live, and the greater my experience, the more am I convinced of its virtues. Let me advise every pupil after exercising, while the body is still hot, to take a cold bath. It does not matter how much he may be perspiring; the cold bath will prove exceedingly beneficial. He must be careful, however, not to take his bath if he is out of breath. The exercises will, no doubt, quicken the heart’s action; but in from three to five minutes after the series is completed, the heart should be beating normally again. For persons who suffer from weak heart I should not advise a cold bath. As a general rule there is no need to ask the question, “Is my heart weak?” For if it is weak you should know it beyond a doubt. After every little exertion, though the assertion may appear paradoxical, you will feel it beating in your head.

     In advising cold baths, I speak, of course, for persons in the enjoyment of ordinary health. The bath should be begun in the summer and continued every morning throughout the year. In the winter, if the room is cold, light the gas and close the window. If your hair is not injuriously affected by cold water—and in many cases, I believe, cold water will be found to strengthen it—begin, as you stand over the bath, by splashing the water five and twenty times over your head. In any case, if you are averse to wetting the hair, be careful to begin by sponging the temples and nape of the neck. Next, whilst still standing over the bath, splash the water fifteen times against the chest and ten times against the heart. Then jump into the bath, going right down under the water. In the summer you may remain in the water from ten to fifteen seconds, but in the winter let it be just a jump in and out again.

     The subsequent rub down with towels is popularly supposed to produce half the benefits that result from a cold bath. I have no hesitation in saying that this is a great mistake. Let me explain the reason: As you get out of the bath you rub down first one part of the body and then the other, and thus, whilst the one part is being warmed by the friction, the other is getting cold. Many people who take cold baths in this way complain of touches of rheumatism, and the whole trouble arises, I believe, from different parts of the body being alternately warmed and chilled.

In order to overcome the risk of this ill-effect my advice is this: Do not spend any time over rubbing yourself down. If you do not like the idea of getting into your clothes wet, just take the water off the body as quickly as you possibly can with a dry towel, jump into your clothes, and let Nature restore your circulation in her own way. You will get quite as warm by this method as by vigorously rubbing down, with the added advantage that the heat of the body will be more evenly distributed. If, owing to poor health or other exceptional causes, the circulation is not fully and promptly restored, walk briskly up and down the room. If you should still feel cold in any part of the body probably the bath is not suited to your constitution, and in that case it is not advised. In ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, however, the cold bath, taken as I have described, will have nothing but the most beneficial effects; and, if taken every morning throughout the year, it is the surest preventive that I know against catching cold. On the other hand, irregularity is liable to produce cold. In short, having once begun the cold bath, make a rule, summer and winter, never to leave it off.

     Personally, I find the very best form of the cold bath is to get into your clothes after it without drying the body at all. For the first moment or two the sensation may not be perfectly agreeable, but afterwards you feel better and warmer for adopting this method. The damp is carried away through the clothes and no particle of wet is left.

     For pupils who have not the convenience of a bathroom a cold sponging down may be recommended as a substitute. In this case let two towels be taken and soaked with water. Rub the front of the body down with one, and the back with the other. This method prevents the towel from absorbing the heat from the body, and the cold sponging is thus distributed evenly over its surface. Afterwards dry the body quickly as before, letting no time be lost in getting into your clothes.

     I have often been asked whether in the event of exercising at night it is advisable to take a cold bath afterwards. My reply is:—“certainly.” Always have a cold bath or sponge down after exercising. It will make you feel “as fresh as paint,” improve your appetite, and make the skin clean and firm, and be generally conducive to happiness and good health. Some people tell me that a cold bath immediately before retiring keeps them awake; if that be so, I should advise them to exercise earlier in the day. But the exercise and the cold bath ought to be regarded as inseparable.

Commentary:

     I really don’t have much to add to this one from a commentarial aspect.  I think the text speaks for itself.  The most interesting thing, of course, is how “modern” this will seem to many readers, especially ones who have recently taken up cold baths and showers.  There is plenty of evidence from this century on the benefits of various forms of cold therapies, but Sandow didn’t need a scientific study for him to know how beneficial cold baths were—and still are to this day.

Source:

Text from “Strength and How to Obtain It” courtesy of Project Gutenberg