Baddest Motherfuckers Ever #21- Brian Oldfield

Let the pissing and moaning commence! Another asshole, and this guy would probably laugh right along with me looking at pictures of people in death camps and various acts of genocide. Know why? He knows that people suck, and made a living out of humiliating people and generally acting like the greatest thing since sliced fucking bread.  Yeah, he was fucking awesome.

"When God invented man, He wanted him to look like me" - Brian Oldfield

Picture this- it's the early 1970s, some gigantic, jacked, tan, blond haired guy looking like a freakish amalgamation of Cali surfer and NFL defensive lineman rolls up to a local track and field meet, smoking a cigarette and smelling like stripper perfume.  He changes, and 5 minutes later sets an unofficial world record in the shot put, using a technique later named after him because the man was not only freakishly strong and cocky as fuck, but an innovator.

Some pertinent facts about Brian Oldfield:

• He beat Lou Ferrigno in a weightlifting competition in a 1976 Superstars competition with a jerk of 310. Nothing monumental, but it was enough to chump the Incredible Hulk on national TV.
• He competed in the 1972 Olympics.
• He set three world records.  Two unofficial (70' 10 1/2" in 1973) and (75 feet in 1975) and one official throw of 70+ at age 40, which still stands as a record for his age group.
• He set the American Record of 72' 9" in 1984 at the Bruce Jenner Invitational.

That's all well and good, but frankly, I could give a fuck about how far he could throw a stone ball.  That shit really only matters to guys who played offensive line in high school and who now sport goatees.  As I'm neither, his shot put numbers mean about as much to me as the speed at which Oldfield types, though I'd imagine the motherfucker was even good at that in his prime.  What makes Oldfield interesting is the fact that he appears to have been awesome at everything, was a strength athlete who was pretty fucking lean at 280+, and who was essentially the strength athlete cognate for Nikola Tesla, an innovator who left a badass legacy although he was fucked hard by circumstance and denied the respect he deserved at his prime.

He even had a great metal face.

From the New York Times:

"Brian Oldfield put the shot 75-feet -inch in a meet at El Paso in May of 1975. That didn't break the existing world record, it obliterated it. Unfortunately, Brian was competing for something called the International Track Assn. at the time. It was, you should pardon the expression, a professional organization, it--come closer, you wouldn't want the kids to hear this--paid its athletes.

What the ITA did was charge admission to its track meets and distributed the proceeds among the competitors. If you can't see any difference between that and what TAC or the NCAA, for all of that, does, go to the head of the class. The difference is the ITA did it openly. They subtracted the hypocrisy. This, of course, was unforgivable to the reigning "amateur" associations.

Somebody had to pay. And Brian was as good a candidate as any. "Say," someone said at a federation meeting, "didn't he smoke on the field at the Olympics once?"

So, Brian's record throw, which was made under allowable conditions, scrupulously measured and calibrated, was not only disallowed, it was ignored. It never happened. Track and field, which falls all over itself certifying some mysterious mark set in the bowels of Siberia by a Soviet vaulter nobody ever heard of, before an audience of two KGB colonels and a guy in a fur hat, threw Oldfield's record as far as it would go. It was not quite far enough. It made the Guinness Book of Records, albeit in the--ha, ha--section right by the goldfish swallowing and the number of students who could pack into a Volkswagen.

In the weird half-life of amateur athletics, Brian was eligible domestically but not internationally. So, he dropped over to a meet in San Jose in 1983 and casually tossed a new American record of 72-feet 9 3/4-inches, only one inch short of the world record.

Brian Oldfield will be highly visible at the shotput ring at the ARCO Coliseum track meet next Saturday. He'll be the one smoking."

So, Oldfield got fucked in about every way he possibly could have been, despite the fact that he was for all intents and purposes the Chuck Norris of track and field.  But how Chuck Norris-ey was he, you ask?

• HE BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF A BEAR WITH HIS BARE HANDS.  "The minute I got into the ring Little Smokey knew he was in trouble.  He was looking over at the crowd thinking this would be easy meat, and here I came.  Well, the bear threw me a forearm in the neck, which made me mad right away.  I picked him up and threw him through the ropes.  Now the bear wanted no part of me, but I jumped on him and beat him backward.  I was going to wishbone the SOB and break his sternum in half, but his handlers must have realized my adrenaline was flowing.  They came in and took the bear away."
• Oldfield was on the cover of SI and Playgirl in the same fucking year.
• He starred in a movie in the 1980s that rivals Troll 2 for utter shit show quality, in which he starred as some jacked guy who ran around and headbutted people to death while rocking a spiked helmet.  If that's not enough awesomely cheesy suck for a film about some suburban broad who battles backwoods drug smugglers in a post-apocalyptic jungle, the tagline for the film is: "Born to shop, she learned to kill!"  
• assed and he wore nothing but a Speedo.
• He outraced a top female sprinter in the 60 yard dash, and then threw her over his shoulder like a rag doll.  
• He broke a guy's upper and lower jaw with one punch... with his left hand.  (Oldfield was right-handed)
• Coined the phrase "I just had a throwgasm" on national TV.
• In another race against a chick sprinter, he smoked her for 70 yards, then turned and ran backwards for the last 30, mocking her gender the entire way.
• Missing his fucking calling in the NFL entirely, Oldfield high jumped 6' 6"; ran the 100M in 10.5; ran the 40 yard dash in 4.3 seconds.  For the purposes of comparison, Dwight Freeney only runs a 4.5 40 at a paltry bodyweight of 268.  (Oldfield was 6'5" 275)
• After receiving a royal fucking in track and field, Oldfield moved to Highland Games, which he apparently dominated like he was fucking Cobra Commander. Utilizing his eponymous shot put technique, Oldfield was able to set a record in the stone put that remains nearly 40 years after he set it- 63'2" in the light stone.
• Ever out to show he could hang with anyone, Oldfield went to to toe with Muhammad "Fuck you cracka" Ali and rolled with ultra-mega-superstar wrestler Verne Gagne.
• He picked up a spare while bowling with a move where he chucked the ball one-handed between his legs... one more "fuck you" to the athletes of a sport who he could beat while acting like a total dick and demeaning their sport entirely.
• HE DUNKED A FUCKING 16 LB (7kg and some change in metric nonsense) SHOT PUT.

My apologies for the shit music there, but I had nothing to do with making the video.

His workout's likely irrelevant, as the man was a born athlete and kicked ass all over the place without even trying.  Despite that fact, here's some tips (in his words) on how he trained:

1. Lift twice a week, but do full body, explosive, heavy stuff
2. Train with overweight implements
3. Take your minerals
4. Sprint training or hills is very important
5. Become a true student of your event and try to think through every single aspect of what you do
6. Discover what foods you are allergic to
7. Complicate the movement with drills to simplify it in the ring
8. Enjoy yourself...have some fun!

...and here are some of his training weights:

(Pre-Olympics)
C&J – 365
BP – 400
Front Squat – 465 (3 reps)
Push Press – 450 (3 reps)


His (alleged, for you whiny motherfuckers) best lifts were eventually: 
Front Squat 600 x 10 reps
Back squats 600 x 25 reps

25 REPS WITH 600 ON THE BACK SQUAT... and he was a fan of kettlebells.

The key to Oldfield's success appears to have been massive self-confidence, the desire to fuck, fight, or generally own anything or anyone that crossed his path, and a disdain for the ordinary.  Life lessons?  You bet your ass.

Throwgasm, anyone?

Sources:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brian_Oldfield
http://www.brianoldfield.com/training.htm
http://www.brianoldfield.com/biography.htm
http://articles.latimes.com/1985-06-02/sports/sp-15080_1_brian-oldfield
http://www.brianoldfield.com/Articles/SI%20Oldfield%201975.pdf
http://www.brianoldfield.com/Articles/e-strengthsolutions%20Interview%20Questions%20for%20Brian%20Oldfield%20May07.pdf

The Only Thing You Have To Fear #2

Fear- the bullshit emotion that dogs even the most intrepid amongst us.  Unless you're completely, batshit, certifiably I-just-made-a-lampshade-out-of-human-skin crazy, you've felt its effects and had it fuck you over more than once.  Feeling the fear isn't the shitty thing, though, it's what fear does to you- it causes you to avoid doing shit, and it's that avoidance that leads to humiliation and regret later on.

Fear is occasionally justified.

Fear inevitably leads to failure, due to the avoidance factor listed above- it's what drives armies from battlefields and leaves dudes unfucked at the end of the night.  Although it's fear of death that's what keeps us from trying to pet a pissed off viper (and quite rightly), it's fear of failure that is what's generally manifested, and it's this type of fear that we've got to combat tooth and fucking nail.  95 out of 100 people fail to achieve anything of importance in life because it's easier not to strive for success due to a fear of failure.(Van Fleet 51)  That's fucking bullshit.  And I'm not talking about the Alex P. Keaton monetary success, since we're not a pack of bloodthirsty bean-counters, I'm talking about the "progressive realization of a worthwhile goal."  The counterpoint, then, is failure- "someone who has the talent and ability to accomplish much more than he has."(Ibid.)  We've all been there- pussed out on a single that we felt was within our reach, and then left the gym pissed at ourselves despite the rest of the workout's awesome.  It's that kind of shit we need to avoid, because it's an evil, insidious, disgusting slithery thing that coils inside your mind and keeps you up at night, whether it's due to some guy/girl at whom you didn't spit game, some douche left unbloodied and unbeaten in a parking lot, or some loaded barbell from which you walked away.  You'll rarely regret the shit you've done, but you'll almost always regret the shit you've left undone.

Could you respect yourself if you saw this in front of you and said nothing to either of them?  I sure as fuck hope not.

Given this fact, you've got to find a way to master your fear... or fear will be your master. James K. Van Fleet, author of a pretty cool little book called Hidden Power has 4 steps to ridding ones self of fear, and I've found that they're remarkably apt, and shit you likely do as a matter of course.(Van Fleet 107-116)  Nevertheless, they bear repeating, as I've noticed there's a tremendous amount of shit that I do unconsciously that I should consciously do a hell of a lot more of, and this is one of those instances.

1) Admit it.  You can't beat what you can't see, and burying your fucking head in the sand will simply make you a weak pussy.  Therefore, if you fear something, simply admit to yourself that you do.  Pretend you're in Sex Addicts Anonymous, simply to get laid, and you've got to admit you're a freak to reel in the nut you've been eyeballing since the meeting began.

I'm a sex addict. It's my cross to bear. It's a real disease with doctors and medicine and everything!

2)  Analyze your fear to see if it's justified.  You planning on trying to fuck that viper I mentioned before?  If so, you might want to rethink your position, as the cost to benefit ratio on that plan fucking blows.  If you're simply afraid of back squatting, consider why that is.  How many people have you seen getting injured doing so?  Were their injuries avoidable?  That sort of shit.  If you find that you're simply manufacturing reasons to shit your pants about it, rather than thinking critically about it, do some research and some up with a solid thesis for why you shouldn't.  Present that idea to someone you respect.  If they spit on you, you're being a fucking pussy and you should probably go do whatever it is you were avoiding.  If they tell you that you're reasonable in your fear of fucking a snake, you can pay your fear a bit more heed.

3) Take necessary actions to rid yourself of your fear.  Here's where it gets fun, in two parts.

1. Don't concentrate on your fear.  First, worrying about shit is fucking pointless- it's a waste of time, ages you prematurely, and that fear has a snowball effect.  Be the captain of your fucking ship and Blackbeard up-your conscious mind is like the captain of your ship, and your subconscious is the crew.(Van Fleet 6)  If your captains screaming like a woman and running about in terror, your subconscious will do so, doubletime.  If you concentrate on your fear, you will become it.  Therefore, acknowledge it and then hit step two.
2. Do the thing you fear, and you'll gain power over it.  This isn't just some hokey bullshit- it's backed by science.  Chronic stress response to any given activity decreases markedly over time, to the point where your body will adapt and respond by flushing your body with hormones only at the precise moment you need it.  (Lehrer)  Cognitive behavioral treatment always involves confronting that which one fears to harness this precise response, and as you gain control over your fear and remain calm in the face of it, you literally force your subgenual anterior cingulate cortex into "hero mode", where you can become Sargent Fucking York at the drop of a hat and do insane, awesome shit for the fuck of it.  This means get under that weight that scares the shit out of you, or more.  If your mind's going to fuck with you, fuck with it right back.  I like to call this "doing something to spite myself", but then, I've got a lot of George Constanza shit going on and love screaming "SERENITY NOW!" at the top of my lungs and doing all sorts of random shit out of spite.  However you motivate yourself into doing something you fear, however, make it fucking happen.  You'll benefit therefrom.

4)  Prepare for the worst.  This isn't actually going to compound your fear.  Instead, it allows you to relax because you've already accepted the worst case scenario.

I realize that step 3 is by and large easier said than done, but it will be worth the effort.  Here are a couple of methods for gettin' 'er dun, as a certain fat redneck poser would say:

Doesn't work with tits, but then, who cares?  If you can touch them, they're real

1) Fake it til you make it.  This adage exists for a reason- it works.  By consciously focusing on being a badass, you will gradually force your subconscious mind to work with instead of against you.  This can be done with something as simple as a change in posture.  I'm not saying you should flare your lats and walk into the gym like the overly tan, air-lat douches that seem to populate New Jersey.  Instead, I mean simply walking around, everywhere, making a conscious effort to keep your head up, chest full, and shoulders squared.  Eventually, your mind will be tricked into confidence by your physiology.  Other people (men in particular, since women notice far more nuance in body language than do men) will pick up on your aura of confidence and treat you like the confident person you're pretending to be.  (Pease 27)

2) Become more aggressive.  Testosterone is positively correlated with aggression, helps to overcome the effects of fear, and fuels impulsiveness and physical strength.(Macrae)  It's what makes great men what they are, and without aggression, we'd still be living in caves, afraid of everything and nibbling on bamboo shoots.  To become more aggressive, all you really have to do is surround yourself with aggressive things.  Some studies have shown that violent sports and other entertainments increase one's levels of aggression, and likewise exposure to other aggressive people increases aggression.  (Flora 190)  Thus, listening to metal/punk/hardcore, watching violent movies, and hanging out with people into the same shit will increase your levels of aggression and thereby make you far more immune to fear.  If you're curious as to how aggressive you are, you can take this online quiz.  If you're on the low side and are sucking in the gym, you might want to think about investing in test boosters, the Devil's Rejects, and the new Man Must Die cd.

The key to success is to "act as if it's impossible to fail"... and unless you're fucking fearless, you cannot attain success.  (Van Fleet 53)  This doesn't include temporary defeats and setbacks- we're talking wars.  If the Viet Cong could manage to lose every fucking battle and still win the war, we can all hit 700 lb. squats.

Show no fear.


Link to Part 1, if you want a refresher: right here.
Sources:
Flora, Stephen Ray.  The Power of Reinforcement.  New York: SUNY Press, 2004.
Lehrer, J.  Under Pressure: The Search for a Stress Vaccine.  Wired.  October 2010.
Macrae, F.  Say goodbye to fear of snakes and other phobias thanks to the new pill that gives courage.  Daily Mail.  24 June 2010.  http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sciencetech/article-1289011/Say-goodbye-fear-snakes-phobias-thanks-new-pill-gives-courage.html
Pease, Allen and Barbara.  The Definitive Book of Body Language.  New York:  Bantam Dell, 2004.
Van Fleet, James K.  Hidden Power: How To Unleash the Power of Your Subconscious Mind.  Paramus:  Prentice Hall, 1987.

Dude, So and So Got SO Fucking Jacked For That Movie: Sylvester Stallone

Few figures are as iconic and meaningful to American males between the ages of 20 and 40 than Sylvester Stallone.  He, along with Schwarzenegger, Van Damme, Seagal, and Willis, set the standard for manliness through their epic films featuring naught but death and destruction, delivered with witty quips for which we all waited with bated breath.  Their films were the stuff from which UGLs since have distilled their testosterone suspensions, and on which future superheros, lumberjacks and Forrest Griffins will be weaned.  In other words, their films were the stuff of all that is awesome... like unicorns, if unicorns did nothing but gore small children and feast on their entrails while boasting rock hard cocks and carrying naked fitness models on their backs.

Of those three, the only one who's managed to stay in the type of shape we'd expect of them to be rocking is Sylvester Motherfucking Stallone.  Though most would posit that it's because he's jacking shitloads of GH and test, they do so only because they're sloppy fucking ninnies with no conception of how hard it is to get to 4% bodyfat, much less while carrying serious muscular bodyweight and at THE AGE OF 62.  In other words, anyone who talks shit on Stallone can get fucked, and might as well donate their testicles to science so that someone can get a first-hand look at the devolution of the American male.

Ninny.

On that note, I shall delve into the workout routines that Stallone uses to get into the kind of shape to make half of the people reading this want to leave their shirts on when they're about to lay wood.  Though they've varied over time, Stallone's go-to workout's remained basically unchanged since Franco Columbu designed it for him to get him ready for Rambo: First Blood, Part II.  This was when Stallone first showed up onscreen in the condition to which poofters on Bodyspace refer as "peeled".

Brace yourselves, fuckers, as he did not, and I repeat, DID NOT, use 5/3/1 or Starting Strength to achieve that condition.[Note: As this comment has got peoples' panties in a bunch, this is to say that there are indeed, denizens of the internet, other workable programs on Earth.  To those parties horribly offended by this statement, settle the fuck down.]  Shocking, I know.  Instead, he actually lifted weights.  A fucking lot of them.  Very often.  Instead of shriveling up into a condition that would preface the appearance of Smigel years later in the LOTR series, he showed up looking like his skin was replaced by orange saran wrap after receiving full-body lipo and having every muscle in his body replaced by a hyper-striated stone.

Rocky Balboa had the best training montage ever- nothing but mothafuckas liftin heavy-ass weight, to channel my inner Ronnie Coleman.

The workout that got him there was a 6 day double split, broken down like this:

Monday/Wednesday/Friday

Morning

Chest

Back

Abs

Afternoon

Shoulders

Arms

Abs

Tuesday/Thursday/Saturday

Morning

Calves

Thighs

Afternoon

Rear Delts

Traps

Abs

He didn't have a specific set/rep scheme to which he adhered, but apparently stuck with the tried-and-true bodybuilder set and rep scheme of 6-12 reps for 3-4 sets of 3-4 exercises.  Given that Franco trained him, I'm sure low reps also reared their head, as Franco was a big fan of low reps on the powerlifts (For a refresher, go here.)  In addition to that craziness, Stallone did between 500 and 1000 reps of abs a day, giving him the six pack that will forever make the rest of us look like fat fucks, no matter what kind of condition we're in.  According to Franco, he "trained four different ab and torso exercises: sit-ups, leg raises, side leg raises, and side bends. We did 50 reps of each, one exercise right after another, and five sets of this cycle. And wait until you see the results. Sly has great abs, intercostals, serratus, everything."  With that batshit Sardinian midget nipping at his heels, Sly pretty much emplyed the bull-in-a-china-shop approach we all love so much.  He went balls to the fucking wall, every workout, and added sets, reps, and exercises whenever humanly possible.

When he originally utilized that program to prep for Rambo II, "Sylvester gained just about 10 pounds in six and a half weeks," Franco says. "He has great structure, with a waist only about 29 inches. When we started, he had a 44-inch chest. At the end, his chest was almost 50 inches. And his arms went from 16 ½ inches to 18 inches. He was bigger, harder and much more muscular. Wait until you see him in the movie. He's going to shock a lot of people by how good he looks."

When was the last time you broke your ass to add 10 lbs of rip in 6 weeks?  I'm betting the 7th of never.

Of course, you're saying to yourself, he must have employed the GOMAD approach.  He must've kept entire dairies in business all of his own accord, he was drinking so much milk.  Not so much, fuckers.  In fact, Stallone ate the way a sane person would if he wanted to get jacked and still be able to be proudly shirtless in public- he ate a shitload of lean meat and veggies, took all of the protein supplements on which he could lay hands, and brooked no fucking nonsense out of anyone.

"Sly is the most disciplined man that you'll ever meet in any walk of life," says his personal bodyguard Gary Compton. "He doesn't eat real late, he doesn't snack, and he doesn't eat much. Pasta? Yes, but not too often, and only when it's made with a special flour. Fish and brown rice are staples. He even eats fish for breakfast. He drinks little alcohol, but occasionally enjoys champagne. Quick energy? Would you believe oatmeal cookies? Of course, without processed sugar of preservatives."

Although he eventually decided the above was the best way to go, and utilized that program for Rocky Balboa and the Expendables, he wasn't above a bit of experimentation, in the most extreme fucking way possible.  "When making Rocky III, Sly would begin the day with a two mile jog, then go straight into 18 rounds of sparring, 2 hours of weightlifting and jumping rope. After all this, he would take a nap in the afternoon, then go running again! He would finish the day with a swim."  For whatever reason, Stallone decided to get lean first, and then put on a shitload of muscle thereafter for that film, so he dieted down to a ridiculous 155 on nothing but 10 egg whites and a piece of burnt toast a day, and then used a more or less paleo diet to get his bodyweight up to 175 for filming.   

Utter fucking lunacy.  Though he didn't go in for all of that ridiculous running to prep for Rambo, the sultan of shred decided to do something that sucks far, far more: "I have to live up to the last film. That makes it a little bit harder to get in shape. I have a machine like an escalator with the steps coming down, and I pile 40 to 50 pounds of weight on my back and start climbing those endless steps."


There you have it- all you need to do to get into 62 year old badass shape is to train 12 times a week on an essentially paleo diet ("I follow a high-protein diet: Anything with a face, that’s what I eat, with something green next to it,”) and throw in 1000 reps of abs and weights stairclimbing into the mix.  Easy as pie, right?  

If a 62 year old man can do it, so can fucking you.  Go lift something.


Sources:
http://www.ironmagazineforums.com/bodybuilding-gossip/67221-body-sylvester-stallone.html
http://www.bodybuilding.com/fun/jaimefiler2.htm
http://sylvesterstalloneworkout.net/
http://www.askmen.com/sports/bodybuilding/58_fitness_tip.html