I get irritated quite a lot in life. The tiniest things really send me over the edge. Take headphone chords for instance. If anything catches them and pops the buds from my ears, I can, for a split second, become irrationally mad. Some might say slightly psychotic. It’s an inward manifestation that lasts only a few seconds, but that few seconds contains the anger of twenty illegal wars. Few are privy to that information.

Few things, though, I’ve realised, irritate me quite as much as motivational slogans. You know the ones: “greatness is within”, “to believe is to achieve”, “overcome the obstacles before they overcome you” etc.. You can pretty much make them up. All of them are meaningless, all of them are stupid, and some are even potentially dangerous..

The first slogan is what actually inspired this blog update. I’ve suffered from a bad back of late, my nocturnal photoshop activities combined with a woeful piece of shit folding computer chair have led to me developing a posture akin to what can only be imagined as a 90 year old man indiscreetly thumbing through newsagent pornography (just to clarify, I’ve undertaken only the posture and appearance of this apocryphal wrong’un, not the activities; I shop online). Just imagine that kind of sloping, Notre Dame-esque posture, remove the seedy raincoat, slap some underpants on, and you have accurately conceptualised me as I write this now.

Being a man of action, I believed I could achieve my dream of a Queens Guard brace, and immediately set about the task of correcting my attenuated gait.

In a moment of brilliant clarity, I threw that fucking chair in the bin and went and bought myself one of those inflatable balls–the kind you see in every gymnasium. My massage therapist had previously recommended one to me, and since his idea of spinal correction was essentially 30 minutes of unbearable wincing agony, of which he then dealt the final deathblow by charging me thirty quid, I decided that this initial outlay of £14.99 was naught but a flutter.

I took the ball home, momentarily sneering at the bin which held the offending chair, and opened the packaging. The ball, like everything, came with a CD. Why does everything come with a CD these days? What is going to be on this CD that isn’t immediately apparent having made a cursory inspection of the ball, which is nothing more than a piece of deflated rubber with a hole in it? What is this CD going to teach me? I bet it’s blank.

Anyway, on the CD was the slogan “GREATNESS IS WITHIN”

Fuck me… Assuming the slogan wasn’t referring to the greatness that could be found within the CD, I have to really point out how low we are setting the bar for ourselves these days..

Let’s picture the scene..

A humble stay-at-home mother, who, for an uncountable amount of years has put her children first, and as a result, has a big arse. She knows change is on the cards, so she sheepishly heads up to Argos and potters over to the catalogue, where she fingers through the fitness section. She can’t fit a multi-gym in her home, and doesn’t know what to do with a set of free weights, so, faced with little option, she purchases a fitness ball. Heading home, she promises herself that she’ll stay motivated, that she’ll do sit ups and crunches every single day until her belly and bum are but distant private cringes never to be uttered aloud again. She doesn’t believe it, mind you, deep down she knows she’ll keep it up for a week before it bores her senseless, and ultimately ends up in the loft with her ab-blaster and her StairMaster.

But the fitness ball has a trick up it’s sleeve…

Tearing open the packaging with a rare vigour, the CD goes flying across the room. She picks it up, immediately focusing on that very slogan…

GREATNESS IS WITHIN

She pauses for a few seconds while it sinks in. The camera switches views, her eyes rise and look forward with a steely gaze. That’s when the music starts..

DU-NA DUN DUN DUN
DUN DUN DUN
DUN DUUN DUNNNNNNNN
It’s the, eye of the tiger…

What a load of shit. Incidentally, and I must digress again, the ball actually came with it’s own pump. I assume the pump is to blow smoke up my arse in the event that the stupid slogan fails to do so.

Nobody ever achieved greatness with this fucking ball. It’s a lump of grey rubber. It’s not even an interesting colour. It’s the least inspirational colour you could possibly choose. Paint some bloody flames on it or something..

What adjectives are left to describe the hyper-achievements in life, when “greatness” can be unlocked with a few sit ups?

Alexander The Really Awesome, just doesn’t sound right.

And that is what pisses me off about motivational slogans. They cheapen everything else around them in the futile attempt to build confidence in people who don’t need it.

Another of my favourites is “pain is weakness leaving the body”.

No, no it’s not. Pain is an evolutionary defense system that compels us to withdraw from or avoid whatever activity is creating the sensation. Pain doesn’t make you stronger, in fact, it’s quite the opposite. That is the entire premise behind torture.

Nobody in Abu Ghraib ever said “HAHA, with every volt that courses through my testicles, I grow STRONGER!”

No no no.

So yeah, motivational slogans are bollocks.

In a rare twist, the picture accompanying this blog update is actually related to the update, how cool is that? The link is tenuous, but I’ll explain in a sec.. The person above is Nick Chapman, a good friend of mine, and my most recent client. He is the creator and owner of Fight Science, a personal training organisation with a few tricks that separate it from the rest of the bodies out there. Nick applies the latest in scientific sports technology to accurately measure the physical abilities of his clients, and then uses that same technology to chart their progress in a way that allows them to see where they’re benefiting from the training. Some of his equipment really is excellent.

Nick is also a fighter, and the two pictures above were taken ahead of his first professional bout in July.

Don’t let the tattoos and extremely offensive mouth protection fool you. Nick is switched on, intelligent, and extremely knowledgeable when it comes to training. Anyone looking to correct their posture should throw that fucking ball in the bin and give him a call.

Oh, I forgot.. The inspiration for this update came when I posted “I hate motivational slogans” on Facebook, and Nick replied with a couple to make fun of me. I then realised I had something to write about. This was about 40 minutes ago, just in case you ever got the impression that I actually spent time coming up with this crap.

Ta-ta Mademoiselles!

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