C.S. Sloan's Integral Strength

     For some reason, one of my most popular posts of the past year was my recent short rambling on literature, beer, and the joy of heavy squats .  Quite surprisingly to me, I received more emails asking about some of my favorite books, authors, and beers than I usually get from other posts asking how to bring up numbers in the major lifts or how to gain more muscle mass.  And since I enjoy writing about things that I love, I thought I would write what it is that you are now reading.      I’ll try not to ramble too much, but I’m not promising anything. On Beer      My favorite kinds of beers are stouts and porters.  I say “kinds” because, if I’m not erroneous here, I’m pretty sure they are much the same thing.  I wasn’t entirely sure, however, so I had to look it up, and here’s what Wikipedia [1] has to say about my favorite kinds of beers:     “Porter is a dark style of beer originating in London in the 18th century, descended from brown beer , a well hopped beer mad

     I am sorry that it has been so long since I last posted something here.  It has been a few weeks.  I will try my best to do better with more frequent postings.  That being said, I hope you enjoy my latest (slightly philosophical) rant...      There are a few things in life that I love.  I love studying philosophy.  I love the feel of a new book in my hands—along the same lines, I love discovering a new author, for it is a deep joy; and I worry deeply about people who do not understand the joy to be found in such a discovery.      But there are still greater things that I love even more.  I love God [1] .  I love cold beer [2] (and worry even more deeply about those who do not understand how great a thing a beer can be).  I love holding my wife in my arms.      Last—but certainly not least—I love the feel of deep squats with a heavy barbell on my back.  (Oh, what a loathsome life it must be to not love literature, beer, and heavy squats.)      I love all of these t

     In the beginning of the original “Conan the Barbarian” movie, the title character’s father is discussing what you can trust and what you can’t trust in life.  In one of my favorite lines in movie history, he quips, “You must learn its discipline.  For no one, no one in this world can you trust.  Not men, not women, not beasts” – and then he points to the sword he has just forged – “ this you can trust.”      I agree with Conan’s father in that I feel the same way about philosophy (and I feel the same way about lifting weights – the iron is always the same; it never lies).  To follow Epictetus’s way – and the way of the other Stoics – is to follow a path that can be trusted.  The ways of the world are folly, but the way of philosophy is a sure path – not to success, or power, or many of the other things that humankind too often puts its faith in – but to peace of mind.      Let us return again to Epictetus’ Enchiridion, and see what other wisdom we can gain from its pages.

Epictetus Pumps Iron, Part One Note:  This article series is – in many ways – a continuation of my earlier post “ Life Lessons Learned from Lifting .”  If you haven’t already, you may want to read that entry first before beginning this series.      One of my loves – outside of lifting weights – is philosophy.  When you hear/read the word philosophy, there is a good chance that another word – “boring” – springs to mind.  But I’m not talking about the dull, dry, armchair/academic variety of philosophy that is prevalent in modern Western society.  I’m talking about philosophy as it was originally intended to be: a way of life, a way of being .      In recent years, philosophy as life-practice is on more of an upswing, probably because of the rise in popularity – or at least the growing interest among Westerners – of Eastern philosophy: Buddhism and Taoism respectively.      But Western philosophy, once upon a time, was also a viable way of practicing life.  In fact, I would

Life Lessons Learned from Lifting      In my life, I have learned much from people and from paths.   My life is not my own.   It belongs to God, and to those that have molded me.   My life is fleeting and temporal—as are all of our lives.   All men die, but many do not live as they were meant to.   I can only thank those that taught me well, that my life will not have been a complete waste.      From my father, I learned of decency, a mild temperament, kindness to others, and the value for a man to attain a scholarly mind.      From my mother: piety, morality, and the ways in which a woman should behave.      From my uncle Kirk: that austerity, toughness, and raw strength in a man can be balanced with tenderness and love—that a man can be a man and still cry as much as he needs.      From my friends Chad, Josh, and Puddin’: that it is okay—even necessary—to tell another man how much you love him.      From my children, Matthew and Garrett: how to love another as uncondi