“In my view the best equipment anyone has for confronting the adversity that comes with hard times is the possession of a healthy, powerful body and the sense of spiritual equilibrium that comes from being centered and in solid personal control.” ~Bradley J. Steiner*
Bradley Steiner, in the pages of Ironman, penned the words above in 1995. Apparently, he thought the world was going through some hard times back then, though I’m not really sure exactly what it was. Bill Clinton was in the 3rd year of his presidency. Perhaps he didn’t like Clinton—I was a Perot man myself those days—and thought the world was headed in directions that could be detrimental for its future. Steiner passed on from this life in December of 2020, when everyone was in isolation from Covid. I wonder what he thought of the world then? Oh, well. Whatever it was that he thought in ‘95, his words ring true no matter the day or age.
I hear/read a lot these days about how the world is going to hell in a handbasket, as the old saying goes. As I type these words, the U.S. and Israel are now at war with Iran. Russia and Ukraine have been at war for 4 years—a fact that personally saddens me as someone who was baptized a Russian Orthodox Christian—young Orthodox men killing other young Orthodox men. But those are just two of the many conflicts that seem to be constantly raging across our planet. In addition to wars of aggression, politics have become incredibly divisive, not just in the United States but around the world. And, yet, I don’t believe that the world is worse than it has ever been, or any other such sentiments, though I do understand that more people seem to be filled with anxiety, depression, despair, or at least a general unease about the times. As bad as things often seem at the moment, however, I don’t really believe that we are in a unique situation. I was born when the Vietnam war was still raging. When I was a kid, we were worried at any moment that nuclear war would break out between the U.S. and the Soviet Union. But my grandfather—a veteran of WW2 who fought at the Battle of the Bulge and helped to liberate Auschwitz; he had been through hell on earth—often told me that things were not all that bad. He had seen worse. I write all of this so that you will know that the world will never be perfect. There will never be a utopian society. To use the words of the Buddha, life is “dukkha” (often translated as “suffering,” though “constant unsatisfactoriness,” might be a better translation). That’s how it was over 2,500 years ago, when the Buddha was teaching his dharma. Nothing has changed. That’s how it was then. That’s how it is now. That’s how it will always be. None of this is to say that we shouldn’t care about the world or strive to make it a better place. We should care and we should strive. We should do the best we can in this broken world, and try our best to leave it just a little better than when we arrived upon our birth. But we should also know that most of the world’s happenings are completely outside of our control. For that reason, we should strive our best to do what we can, but ultimately we shouldn’t worry about the things that are out of our control. We should do “good,” but once it’s done, whatever it may be, we must learn to let go and give no thought of the outcome, because the outcome is outside of our control.
The wise know this. They don’t let their personal well-being and happiness depend upon anything that is outside of them. But this sort of wisdom and peace-of-mind cannot be attained without living a life that allows one to develop it. It is a skill, and just as with any skill, it is developed through constant practice. And one of those practices just happens to be training with weights.
Steiner’s quote could be applied equally to training in the martial ways. Although Steiner is known best for his thousands—that’s correct, thousands—of weight lifting articles that he wrote, he was even more dedicated to martial training. He practiced traditional Karate from the ‘50s, and founded his own martial system in 1975 which he called Jen-Do-Tao, or “The Way of Combat.” In fact, most of the “psychology” of lifting in his writings are virtually interchangeable with martial arts thought.
The bottom line, however, is that Steiner was spot on. Lifting, when approached with the correct mindset and for the right reasons, is one of the best activities available for training not just our bodies but our minds and spirits. Along with “good” martial training, little else can come close to its benefits.
“I’ll tell you with hand over my heart that if I had my life to live over again, one of the very few things I would not change is my three decades of devotion to regular weight training. It has given me more than almost every human being with whom I’ve come in contact—and I’m not kidding. I can remember relatives, teachers, friends, acquaintances, and neighbors who contributed nothing to my existence, yet I cannot remember one single moment of training that failed to yield great pleasure, personal enrichment, and snowballing benefits. Write me off as a misanthrope if you will, but nothing can erase the facts. Those same facts might help you, if you’re looking for an activity that will never let you down.”
I don’t believe Steiner was in the least bit misanthropic. He was simply telling the truth. People can change their minds, be dishonest, use others—well, the list could go on and on. But the iron never changes. As my one-time training partner Ox enjoyed bellowing out before many a training session: “It’s time to worship at the altar of the bench press.” Now, Ox—real name Richard; occasionally known by the nom de plume Puddin’—was not, nor is to this day, a particularly religious man. Not in the “traditional” sense of the word. But he was a deep thinker, despite his “life of the party” personality. He drove a rig when he wasn’t pounding away at the iron—I suppose if you drive large tractor-trailers across the country you have plenty of time to ponder a preponderance of philosophical subjects. What Ox meant was that the iron is unchanging. It does not lie. No matter what kind of day you have, the weights don’t care. Good or bad, happy or sad, whether full of joy or melancholy, a 405-pound squat is the same, no matter the day. There’s a therapeutic benefit to that. Ox knew it. The unchanging nature of the iron is what makes it transformative. Because it doesn’t change, it can be relied upon.
If you have, like me, been lifting for decades, then you know well the benefits, even if you can’t quite put them into words. I believe that I can comment upon Steiner’s remarks because, at this point, I have been lifting even longer than Steiner when he originally wrote them. I have trained for almost 4 decades, since I was a teenager, and since that time have had—in many ways—many different lives. In my life, I have been through much, but there’s one thing that hasn’t changed in my life: training. It has helped me in more ways than those who never take it up could ever comprehend. Of course, if you have been lifting just as long, or longer, then you do understand. Otherwise, I doubt you’d still be doing it, either.
I occasionally have folks ask me why I still train. Sometimes, the question comes from young people who I reckon just don’t know any better, but just as often it’s from others my same age or older. Often, what is really meant by the question is: Why do you train when you can no longer be as fast, as strong, or as fit as you once were? I probably have been asked the question even more when it comes to martial arts. Why do I still train in the martial ways when I no longer have the same speed, stamina, or power that I had in my youth? But the questions—whether it’s in regards to lifting weights or Budo—are based on erroneous assumptions. The benefits lie in more than just the physical, though it’s important, as one ages, to stay in the best shape possible from a physical standpoint. In addition to strength gains, muscle growth, and fat loss, there are the mental, emotional, health, and spiritual benefits from training.
Even if you’re reading this and you are in your teens or 20s, you should, from the start, train for reasons other than being the biggest, strongest, best-looking bodybuilder/lifter at the gym. Knowing these other benefits means that you won’t measure yourself against others, but only against yourself, so let’s look at the myriad of reasons you should lift.
First—and this is especially important when times are hard and the craziness of the world impinges upon your psyche—there are the mental and emotional benefits. “An hour of hard training provides an escape from the insanity, pressure, stupidity, irrelevance, and uselessness of so much that we must confront and immerse ourselves in every day. A workout cleanses and renews the soul. I can’t recall the number of times I’ve begun a session feeling down or disgusted, but by the time I finished, I felt great. It’s a high that sticks—for hours or sometimes into the next day. People can spend $100 an hour pouring out their guts to a psychiatrist, but I’ll take a private hour with a heavy barbell, thank you.”
Next, there are the health benefits. “To a certain extent, we must all accept that forces outside our control affect our health. No one lives forever, and we all experience some illness during our lifetimes. Still, vigorous physical training will definitely keep you stronger and healthier than you’d be otherwise, and the vast majority of serious barbell trainees (excluding the drug abusers) enjoy excellent health and long, active lives.”
These days, you see plenty of young lifters who appear to be healthy that die young. But this is almost always from drug use. If you train the right way, without performance-enhancing drugs or other pharmaceuticals, then you will live a longer, healthier, happier life than you would have without the training. You don’t need to be overconcerned about health and longevity—as we see in the cult-of-longevity that has sprouted up, boosted by longevity “influencers” and their ilk, or even worse, the transhumanists—but if we take up sane, sensible barbell training (as Steiner was fond of writing) we can live a longer life than we would have otherwise attained.
Then, there are the personality benefits. “When we feel and look good and perform well, we tend to have a more pleasant and attractive demeanor and to attract favorable personal contacts… it’s easy to see that if you feel good and act pleasantly, you’ll improve your chances of having positive relationships.”
I don’t intend to disparage anyone by writing this, and it’s important that we always have compassion for others including those that struggle with their physical health and well-being, but when you encounter other people that are physically unwell of their own accord, because they over-eat, don’t exercise, don’t take care of their bodies, and don’t strive to improve their health, you encounter persons that seem to have a “darker” personality. When your health and well-being is jubilant and vital, so is your personality. When your physical health is in the gutter, your personality is often in the same place. The mind and spirit often go the way of the body. Keep your body in prime health, and your mind and spirit will also be healthy.
Finally, and for a more practical standpoint, there are the career benefits. “Honest success comes from honest work. You work most effectively if you’re strong, feel good, and are healthy. Regardless of the business or vocation you’re aiming for, you’ll be doing a tremendous amount for your success if you establish a workout habit and stick with it.”
As a freelance writer, I make my money from what I’m capable of producing on my laptop, just as I’m typing these words right now. Working out definitely helps my work. It’s interesting. I have noticed over the years that when my training is going well, so is my writing, and vice-versa. Perhaps my workouts, when they are result-producing, just make me feel better, and that feeling of well-being translates over to my work. I’m not entirely sure, nor do I really over-think it. But it is the truth. So, whatever it is that you do for a career, just know that the weights will help you achieve more and enjoy your work more. It’s an indispensable asset to thriving in your career.
“I have boundless enthusiasm for very few things. One of them is sensible weight training. I hope that I can somehow manage in every article I write to help at least one reader experience all that barbell work offers.” I can’t think of a better quote to leave you with than that. I try to do the same thing with my own writing. If this essay has helped you to understand the joy, the pleasure, the sheer power of effective barbell training, then it has done its job.
*All italicized quotes in this article are from the article “Hard Muscles for Hard Times” (which I obviously stole for the title here, as well—I’m good at stealing good ideas) by Bradley J. Steiner, from the January 1995 issue of Ironman magazine.
If you enjoyed this essay, then you would, in all likelihood, enjoy my book “Ultimate Mass and Power Essays.” For more information on it, and my other books, then visit the My Books page. As always, if you have any questions or comments, leave them in the comments section below or shoot me an email for a more personalized response.

I still refer back to Steiner's articles to inform my training even as a relatively young gun lifter, love the general mood of this article. You need a perspective bigger than the world, with its wars and disasters and slings and arrows, to not be shaken. Even though my training style can be categorised as 'bodybuilding', which typically has a vain reputation, to me it's about building up muscle and power that will always serve you well in daily life. Essentially just mirroring the approach the wisdom traditions of the world take with the mind; building it up to be able to withstand the viccisitudes of life. My particular one being Theravada Buddhism.
ReplyDeleteLife is unsatisfactory, fleeting, worldly conditions are unpredictable, old age, disease and death creep in, you have to build yourself a refuge. Appreciate the more spiritual articles, C.S., as a fellow traveller of the path.
I'm glad you liked the essay. I am going to try to write more "philosophical" pieces this year, assuming the ones I DO write get some views.
DeleteI don't think there's anything "wrong" with bodybuilding. I LOVE old-school, "real" bodybuilding - especially from the "silver era." And I think Steiner was, without-a-doubt, a bodybuilder. I think he would have agreed with that assessment. He just didn't like what bodybuilding had become, especially from the '80s onward, when it moved away from sensible training and into the realm of an "insane" amount of volume due to all of the steroid abuse.. When the bodybuilder is "physical culturist," to use the old-school expression, he is closer to "yogi" than he is the modern, anabolic steroid-bloated "bodybuilder." I guess my point is that you SHOULD be a bodybuilder, but be one that is well-rounded and athletic - along with "spiritual".
I think I mentioned this before in another one of my comments, but I have a deep love for Theravada Buddhism, and would have considered myself to be a Zen/Theravada practitioner at one point, so much did the pali canon influence my view of the Buddhadharma (or "dhamma," I suppose, to use the Theravada term). I still have respect for it. For myself, however, I need to rely on "Other Power" - to use the expression from Japanese Mahayana - as a more devotional path simply "works" better for me. But we are both travelers on the Way, so use whatever path you find that works for you. The Theravada is certainly a viable path, so stay on it, for you are correct - this world is fleeting and the only certainties are illness, aging, and death but there IS the "other shore" that is not.
Thanks for the comment. It encourages me to continue writing similar material.