Rant Post: Your Body is a Weapon

There is something I need to discuss with y'all. It's a concept/idea that I have been contemplating for many months. I usually forget about, then someone will anger me enough to contemplate it again (more on this in a little bit). It can be summed up in a simple statement: 'Your body is a weapon' or the 'Body-Weapon' concept.

How this all started: A few months ago I was standing behind the gun counter listening to some fat asshole brag to another fat asshole about how badass he was. He was a police officer, a pistol instructor and a black belt in karate. The whole time I am thinking: Ok, fatty, what the fuck are you gonna do when all shit gets real and you punch/ karate chop yourself in 15 seconds? all while I smiled, nodded and said, "that's cool, sir." It really doesn't matter if you're a black belt in anything, if all you can do is fight for 30 seconds before you're double over and winded.

I started thinking about the human body and how important is is to train it to withstand chaos and stress. You know, those two things that will make up a small percentage of our life, but most likely mean life or death? I mean, what good is going to do you if you go to the range, stand in one position and shoot paper. You could be a world class pistol shot standing still at 7, 15,25 or even a 100 yards, but what is gonna happen when your adrenaline is pumping, you're tired and your eyes are bugging out of your head? You're gonna die, fatty. It's kind of like the whole Level of Training thing I discussed a month ago.

You can shoot a golf ball at a gajillion yards with an ar-15? Too bad you can't see your toes. I don't feel safe with either of these guys protecting me.

Why do you think Navy SEALS, Green Berets and Delta force operators are in such badass shape? Because they acknowledge that just like their carbine their bodies are weapon systems as well. It would not be easy to swim a few miles onto a beach undetected, kill a bunch of shit and swim away quickly as a Navy SEAL if you were out of shape. HELL, it would not be easy to do so when you are in shape.

The Spartans knew how to do it (besides the whole sleeping with men and young boys thing). From a young age they conditioned their bodies and their minds. Were they really better fighters than most? Sure. Did the fact that they were physically hardcore-as-fuck help them outlast all opponents and have a higher Kill:Death ratio than Samson? you bet your ass.

Which brings me to another rant-point: Fat cops. It is known to many that I want to be a police officer. And I take this vow to them, and now publicly: I will never be a fat cop. I want to serve and protect my community and my state and I don't feel I can do that as a fatass. I don't even think criminals are afraid of fat cops. Maybe of their guns, but that's about it. I hold the belief that soldiers/police should be in a physical and mental condition to meet and excel in the most extreme conditions. 

Of course there is the rare specimen that is fat and athletic as hell (see: Roy Nelson). But these people are very rare. There is not much excuse to be fat now-a-days. The average American is fat. I caught myself thinking that, "Hey, I'm in better shape than the average American!" Fuck that. Truth is, the average American is a piece of shit. Being stronger/in better shape than the average American is like being richer than your average McDonald's burger-slinger.

Of course, your technical/tactical training is important as well. You shouldn't neglect that to make yourself physically better. I wouldn't want to fight alongside a person who can't shoot anymore than I would with someone with a size 46 waist. Range work and study is just as important. That's all I can really say on the subject.

Christ Costa is a believer in the Body-Weapon concept. In this picture Chris Costa is about .2 seconds away from shooting you in the nut sack.

Final Word: Whether you are a soldier, police officer or Average Joe make you're body a weapon. Train hard and train often. You're technical training will only get you so far if you are gassed halfway through a mission, foot pursuit or call. As always...Go workout. Stronger people are harder to kill.

Personal Heroes: Billy Hatebreed

This is post one about my 'personal heroes'. What is a personal hero? A personal hero is a role model who I look up to. Through them I try to emulate certain qualities or traits. No, I do not mean one of those feel-good, pussy role models who is a 'all-around great guy' in and out of the field/court/stadium. I'm talking about hardcore assholes who excel at stuff-and-things with ball-smashing efficiency.

This is the story of Billy Hatebreed.

When I first met Billy he was literally in between my legs.

Uhh WTF, Zach....Context please.

Billy and I were in the West Point grappling club together as plebes. I first met billy when I was literally beating him up (ask him, he'll tell you). He was in my guard (look it up) and I was working him over pretty good. I saw the last name on his PT shirt: 'Hatebreed'. In my head I thought "Why is this skinny asshole even trying to fight me?". I thought I was hot shit. I decided to remember his face and his name for later reference.

"Thanks for sparring with me man" he said.

No problem assclown, As i shook his hand and smiled.

Let me take a break and describe Hatebreed for you on the day I met him. He was about 6 feet tall and lanky. He looked like he couldn't even describe what a barbell looked like. He was, as he would say now, a Bitch and i think he would confirm that. He looked like he belonged at UCLA playing in the band, not at West Point grappling with the future leaders of America.

Fast forward a week and I meet this guy again in my friend's room. First thing I said was something to the effect of:

"Oh, shit. You're THAT Hatebreed. Good to see you again man."

We talked a bit more and I found out he was a central Texas asshole just like me. Awesome. Part way through the conversation he mentioned that he was a lifter. Bullshit was my first thought. Then I thought That's great, he needs some muscle.

Let me take yet another break and describe myself at that point. I was 5'10" and 175. I was also a bitch. I just didn't know it. I thought because I was a half-competent grappler that I was hot shit. I was not. I was a bitch. A skinny-fat bitch.

Anyway, Hatebreed starts lifting. As the months pass I start noticing his gains. I also notice that that motherfucker practically lives in the gym. When others are playing ultimate frisbee or tossing around a football, Hatebreed was picking up heavy shit and setting it down. He became one of the few people I knew who actually used the supplements that he bought. As his physical state changed so did his mental state. He not only became intense-as-fuck in the weight room, but intense-as-fuck every else that was appropriate.
 Hatebreed was (and still is) the stereotype that is meat head. He listens to metal, he takes supps and he lives in the gym. 

Fast forward (yes, again) to junior year at West Point. Billy was a noticeably person. He had added what I thought to be about 30 (I don't know for sure) pounds of muscle since I first met him. He was fuckin ripped up. I was a still a fat bitch.  Billy and I had become even better friends since we met. We hung out with mutual friends both at home and at West Point. While he got jacked I got injured and fat. I had turned into an even bigger piece of shit.

That was almost a year ago. In that time I have lost 55 pounds of fat, made considerable strength gains and became even less of a piece of shit. What does this have to do with Billy? A lot.

You see a few months ago when I decided to get off my lazy ass and stop being a bitch I pulled motivation from a) my hate for others, b)my hate for myself and c)other people (such as Billy). Although Billy never called me out on my piece-of-shitness he did so indirectly with his comments about others. He says things like 'being fat is fucked' and 'I hate how people let themselves turn into pieces of shit'.

I hear you, Billy, loud and clear. 

 I look at Billy now as an example of what I, and others, can do when we decide to go balls-to-the-wall insane on our goals. His experience taught me that Intensity and and bat-shit insanity can basically get you through anything. Even now when I find myself unmotivated I think of what billy would do in my situation. The answer is always the same. He would fucking work out. He is a personal hero of mine for this reason. I would also like to take this space to congratulate him on his accomplishments. His strength gains, his animalistic approach to strength training and his upcoming commission and graduation from West Point. Congratulations, buddy. You did it. You'll bring your intensity to the army where you will kick a lot of wholesale ass.

This is Billy deadlifting 505 pounds. Go ahead and call him a bitch. I dare you.

Final Word: Be like Billy. Get intense. Become and animal. Devour your goals. And for God's sake go fucking workout.