CHIP CONRAD
Why on Earth? Excerpts from Our Sweet Chant of Frantic Power
I’m Chip Conrad, the owner of Body Tribe
Fitness in Sacramento, California. I’m just finishing
up my second book, Our Sweet Chant of Frantic
Power. Like my first one, Lift With Your Head, this
one deals with our relationship with strength and
movement. Here’s part of that thinking.
What would you say if you had 18 minutes to
pitch whatever you wanted to more than a thousand
people who pooped money and had the resources to
make your dreams come true? This little fantasy is
the premise of what I’ll be chatting about here.
It all started when I learned about the technology,
entertainment and design conference known among
the hip kids as the TED Conference, an exclusive,
possibly earth-changing gathering every year that
gives this 18-minute possibility to folks far smarter
than me.
The TED invites a handful of some of the
wealthiest folks on the planet to listen to these mini-
lectures from people with big ideas. This hopefully
creates a bridge between said ideas and the financing
to make them boom.
No, I won’t ever be invited. An important place
in history has not been reserved for me unless being
average can champion heroes—the world’s best
mediocre parallel parker, or the neighborhood’s
greatest DVD collection of movies from the mid-
1990s. Those would be the trophies on my wall.
Heck, the 10 people who bought my previous
book, not including family members (thanks, Aunt
Claudia), were members of a suicide cult who thought
the physical subculture was a body modification
practice that offered after-life enlightenment. Boy,
were they in for a surprise.
Netflix produced and distributed a documentary
about the TED conference that ended up in my
queue and eventually in my DVD player, somehow
usurping Season 3 of Dexter. I was blown away, not
just by the amazing presentations, but more so by
the fact that a roomful of folks whose wealth and
power could collectively rival our GNP were present
to have a positive influence on our planet.
~1~
This is transcript of Chip Conrad’s Why on Earth? Our Sweet Chant of Frantic Power Excerpts audio lecture.
If you’ve received this material, do not own the audio lecture and would like to learn about it, visit www.movementlectures.com.
For more from Chip, visit him at bodytribe.com.
TED is pretty green—not new and not wet
behind the ears—but green. TED is a dialogue for
planetary sustainability, although they have also
thrown in some cool new technological toys to
stroke the fires of the inner geek in many of us, and
make the shindig a little more fun.
Each presenter has 18 minutes to pitch an idea,
gadget or plan to change the world. The attendees
have the resources and money, as well as the desire
to get the party started.
My little heart needed that sliver of hope after a
repeated daily porridge of misgivings spoon-fed to
us by a sensationalized but limited popular media.
Learning that filthy-rich folks also wanted to do
something good for the planet helped to slightly
offset our aphotic moral scale, which seemed pinned
down on the side of messed up as other filthy-rich
folks profited off of anything they could. Oh, careful.
I’m ranting. Sorry.
Well, perhaps it’s sort of evident why the TED
conference got the six-year-old in me dreaming.
Let’s say that a roomful of 1000 rich, smart and
powerful people could be gathered without the
sole intention of owning the world, exploiting any
resource to make a buck or creating dangerous
conflicts to line their own coffers. Wow, I do seem a
bit jaded, don’t I?
Let’s say these folks were interested in intelligent
ideas of possibility that could have an effect on the
sustainability of the planet and they could bankroll
almost any mountain that needed moving or any
dream that sounded plausible. Let’s say I’m standing
in front of them.
Go.
What would my message be? There’s nothing as
humbling as questioning the value of your mission.
My little revolution against the commercial fitness
industry is a very first-world luxury. With food in my
belly and a roof over my head, for now, I can safely
charge into the fray of mainstream consumerism
and hubris with sword or dumbbell in hand, ready
to slay the corporate dragons. So what?
 Can I justify that Westernized society needs
saving as much as societies that suffer from a lack
of basic needs? I’m trying to raise the level of my
silly, little profession from a service industry to a
philosophical physiology—the quest for realization
through physical empowerment. It’s hard not to
question whether this is a pretty weak brand of
activism.
David P. Butler, who I’ll give a greater shout out
to in a bit, chimed in over 140 years ago with this
tidbit. “Whatever will secure the greatest degree of
strength, vigor, health and perfection of the physical
organism should be adopted and applied by all as
the first and most important duty of life.”
For every culture struggling for basic needs,
there’s another squandering theirs, diving headlong
into an oblivion reserved for classic squanderers
like Nero and Caligula.
Perhaps my little role within our tribe is to offer
important alternatives to taking our physical beings
for granted and promoting the concept that sands
the politics of primping and increased physical
awareness that can lead to higher forms of thought
and creativity.
Yes, there is a need to be concerned for our own
society, our own tribe, and the realization that our
lessons might be different from other tribes but no
less important. Granted, this may simply be me
justifying my own teeny quest here, but a boy can
dream, right?
Now my big quest is to find the direct correlation
between the strength of the individual and the
strength of the tribe. I hope my desire for personal
empowerment through strength is obvious. Heck, I
wrote an entire book about it. It would seem obvious
that this would improve the tribe, but does it? Not
instantly and not always.
This is where we need to define the next step. In
other words, if we can pretend the personal strength
quest is the status quo that we’re all given to similar
pursuits of muscle and ability, what steps does it
take to guarantee a benefit for the tribe as well? This
is my current line of questioning.
~2~
This is transcript of Chip Conrad’s Why on Earth? Our Sweet Chant of Frantic Power Excerpts audio lecture.
If you’ve received this material, do not own the audio lecture and would like to learn about it, visit www.movementlectures.com.
For more from Chip, visit him at bodytribe.com.
Do you want to join me while I attempt to
define what steps we must create to ensure that
our individual strength journey translates to an
increased security and ability of our tribe or our
community?
It’s been said that happiness means nothing if it
isn’t shared. The case will be made here that strength
is the same way. As a tool for empowerment, we’ll
see if there is such a thing as personal empowerment
without somehow including the tribe.
I’m a trainer and a coach. What a job. I get to
assist people in becoming stronger. My role may
not be much more than simply pulling up a seat to
watch a comedy, drama, thriller or documentary
about a growing relationship between a person and
a body.
Once in a while when the credits roll, there is
a body tribe listed—if not as the director, then at
least as the gaffer or assistant to the grip, proof that
we got to somehow be part of that show, the star-
studded extravaganza that we will call ‘you.’
What a job. I point. I grunt a little. Somehow that
eventually translates into a more capable member of
our tribe. If only I were that magical. The truth is
that all the work came from you, but I’m glad to be
part of that journey. What a job. I’m surrounded by
inspiration.
This creates a premise in my little trainer brain.
The relationship between a person and a body, a
physical being, has a direct correlation with that
person and the other relationships—interpersonal,
spiritual, intellectual.
In other words, the relationship between
you (physical) and you (metaphysical or beyond
physical) is the relationship between you and your
tribe—your community, your family. What good
is strength and ability through all this training if it
doesn’t mean the strength and the ability of your
tribe?
One of Dave Draper’s recent newsletters
summed it up nicely. Here’s what he said.
“The obvious truth is that you and I take care
of ourselves so we’re more able to take care of those
around us. We’re extraordinarily generous and
considerate people, like a breed of our own. We lift
weights that we may lighten the load for our neighbors.
We eat healthy foods that we may care for the ill when
they grow faint. We seek longevity because someone
must attend to the aging and the failing in their time
of need.
“We sleep, rest and relax with peace-loving
diligence that we may serve others tirelessly. We,
through our consistent exercise, develop discipline,
patience and compassion—needed character qualities
when called upon by God and Man to mitigate strife
and negotiate peace.”
I can’t even paraphrase that and call it my own
like I usually do. Our relationship with our health
and the ability of our bodies translates to the
relationship we have with other aspects of our lives.
I’m going to grant Dave an artistic license when
he states that this is obvious. He’s an optimist. I
think it takes a lot of work.
Gene Tunney writes, “If all human lives
depended upon their usefulness as might be judged
by certain standards, there would be a sudden and
terrific mortality in the world.”
Useful. Valuable. Boring sounding. Yet, we sure
give it a lot of energy, at least as a culture, but we
fake it as individuals. We’re so busy looking busy,
but busy doesn’t mean useful. Am I useful? We’re so
busy appearing busy that we don’t actually get much
done.
As a nation, we love being useful. No wait. We
love appearing useful. We’ll throw so much money,
energy and hyperbole into a cause or project, but
usually an outcome is more of a surprise than the
planned result. Did this stink of pessimism? Sorry.
There is good work being done to be sure.
However, let’s face it. We truly excel at being busy
appearing busy. Yeah, that’s quite a soapbox I’ve
climbed on, isn’t it?
Ebay, Amazon, YouTube and Facebook are
home to thousands of books, videos and websites
willing to offer you the keys to the how and what of
fitness and strength. Heck, it’s a big part of my bread
~3~
This is transcript of Chip Conrad’s Why on Earth? Our Sweet Chant of Frantic Power Excerpts audio lecture.
If you’ve received this material, do not own the audio lecture and would like to learn about it, visit www.movementlectures.com.
For more from Chip, visit him at bodytribe.com.
and butter. I think I even have a Twitter account or
some such, although I’ve never tweeted, twisted or
whatever.
With all the volume and energy promoting the
‘what’ and the ‘how,’ a big vacuum exists where the
‘why’ should be. There’s a truth no one wants to face.
When we confront the ‘why’ behind our decisions—
fitness or otherwise—many of our choices seem
dumb. This is evident if your keen eyes ever take a
gander through a corporate gym.
Am I useful? There it is again. It’s a funny
question, isn’t it? It’s annoying like a redundant poke
from a six-year-old, snot-covered index finger into
your rib cage. Ouch, stop it. Ouch, stop it. Ouch,
enough already.
Perhaps it’s annoying because it’s ‘the question.’
It’s a less sugar-coated way of asking if you’re a good
person, a just person or a caring person. That’s what
being useful is—getting stuff done for the benefit of
the tribe.
However, we’re sort of hiding from it. We hide
from asking if our actions or lifestyles will prove
useful because it’s tricky. Yes or no. True or false. For
once, you finally want to answer in essay form.
There’s an irony as I write this. This topic has
been sitting in my spiritual inbox for months now. I
haven’t posed the question because I’m a bit nervous
of my own answer. Am I useful? If this test question
were more multiple choice than true or false, I’d pick
the third box—‘unsure.’ Next to it I might scribble
‘but I’m working on it.’
I want to switch tracks here for a minute. I’ve
picked up this book entitled Butler’s System of
Physical Training: The Lifting Cure—an original
scientific application of the laws of motion or
mechanical action to physical culture and the cure of
disease. That’s the entire title and it was written by a
man named David P. Butler in 1868.
Have you ever read something that’s almost 150
years old that sounds like something you wrote?
Do you think you have original ideas, then sink
back and find that somebody wrote it better than
you did—a century and a half earlier? That’s the
experience I had in reading this.
 Let me give you an example. “As development,
health and longevity are the rewards of obeying the
laws of man’s mechanism, so degeneracy, disease
and premature death are no less the legitimate
punishment of their violation.” That’s good. It just
gets better.
Action is life, power and success. Inaction is
failure, impotence and death.
“Proper action is the basis of all physical, mental
and moral progress” ~David P. Butler, 1868
Embodiment. Training is not servitude. Training
is not imposed on us by others. Training is a direct
vehicle to our practice of mindfulness. Our training
of the body tribe is for those who embrace a journey
of true empowerment, both for themselves and
their tribe. Life is suffering. Overcoming is living.
Finding it fun is truly being alive.
In his book, The Art of Power, Thich Nhat
Hanh writes, “We can learn how to go home to our
bodies through mindfulness in our movements and
intensity.”
A dialogue presents itself between our selves
and our bodies. Can we listen to and understand the
language of the body? The dialogue often isn’t what
the mind is telling us it is. It might dawn on us that
relationships with our bodies aren’t good. In many
cases, they’re not there at all, beyond our tenuous
idea of the body being submissive to our whims.
Body, get me to the fridge.
What we’re witnessing in the proliferation of
disease and damage of our systems is simple mutiny.
With practice through various mindfulness-
training techniques, it will dawn on us how little
we listen. We command. We demand. We ignore.
We decorate. We subvert. We damage. However, we
don’t pay attention to the feedback—the results.
This is a bummer since we have a best friend
and lifelong companion with us at all times. Our
little flesh packets aren’t just our vessels, but living,
feeling and talking machines that, although I’m
currently addressing them as separate units, are
actually very much us.
~4~
This is transcript of Chip Conrad’s Why on Earth? Our Sweet Chant of Frantic Power Excerpts audio lecture.
If you’ve received this material, do not own the audio lecture and would like to learn about it, visit www.movementlectures.com.
For more from Chip, visit him at bodytribe.com.
It might then start to become apparent that our
relationships with our bodies, ourselves, will be the
precedent for all of our relationships. The cliché of
“you gotta love yourself before you can love anybody
else” has a very real ring to it now, doesn’t it? That’s
holistic training—fully grokking your relationship
with your body.
The dialogue has to start somewhere. We may
as well start with our breathing. A simple awareness
that you are or aren’t breathing, especially during
movement, is a good indicator to your body that
at least you’re starting to pay attention. Then the
lessons expand from there.
Start being aware of yourself. Learn the language
of your body and how it speaks. With judgment-
free dialogue, there’s a pretty amazing relationship
to discover.
As the epicenter of this small concept of
movement philosophy, I’m now trying to see my
place—our place—within the tribe. How can I add
to the tribe culture society through the rituals of
my sanctuary, my gym? This is what I relegate as
homework to all the attendees of our strength camps
and workshops.
Fitness is an individual, ego-based pursuit. Get
buff equals get laid, get recognized, get money or
get stuff. But how can the tribe benefit from it?
How can society increase its capability through our
individual fitness endeavors?
Team Elite Fitness has a list of ideas—the folks
at Elite Fitness Systems. Here are some tenants they
list as important to the pursuit of strength—
• Courage—the strength to take chances, to
innovate and experiment, to become a leader
• Empowerment—the development and
achievement of a high level of self-esteem and self-
actualization
• Teamwork—the desire to work together as
a group creating an atmosphere in which everyone
has a chance to contribute and achieve success
• Integrity—to live and work with trust,
honesty, caring, fairness and loyalty…values
essential for individual health.
 • Attitude—to approach life and work with
passion, a smile and a positive state of mind
With this in mind, the tribe can only exist if
unified in compassionate support. The components
of fitness are defined by physical subculture—
strength, courage, persistence—and can only
succeed if they come from a foundation of sharing.
How a tribe differs from modern clans, clubs
and parties is that the support and compassion
needs to be inclusive extending to anyone, not
just tribal members. A tribe, even if it doesn’t have
much, shares as naturally as we breathe.
When I teach a workshop or meet with a new
client, I offer the first task of defining the words
‘strength’ and ‘fitness.’ They have to define them
for themselves, making their concept of it unique
and personal. This starts them on an individual and
perpetual quest for one’s own movement philosophy.
It sounds totally exciting, doesn’t it? Well, we think
it’s cool…but then what?
A general truth I’m starting to understand is
that being a badass without the tribe in mind is not
being a badass. That’s the underlying premise for
this entire chat—body, community, culture.
What is the physical subculture? My last book
discussed the basic premise behind the physical
subculture while leaving the reader a bit high and
dry by not really explaining what it is.
However, as will be repeated ad nauseam
throughout this new program, we can’t achieve,
teach or seek what isn’t defined except through
some beautiful Zen-filled accidents. Although often
accidental, no book or idea of mind shall ever bear
the yoke of being beautiful.
The term ‘physical subculture’ was first used as
a title of an article written about my gym. Jimmy
Calanchini, a Mohawk journalist and musician,
coined the term after spending some time listening
to my endless patter about the need to return to the
roots of fitness—the physical culture movement of
a century ago.
Jimmy shared some of my biases against the
current corporate fitness structure. With both of us
~5~
This is transcript of Chip Conrad’s Why on Earth? Our Sweet Chant of Frantic Power Excerpts audio lecture.
If you’ve received this material, do not own the audio lecture and would like to learn about it, visit www.movementlectures.com.
For more from Chip, visit him at bodytribe.com.
having a bit of a punk rock past, it wasn’t hard to
meet the common ground of the need for a grass
roots movement for change.
However, physical culture has currently been
relegated to an underground movement. It’s what
health coach Cody Fielding and I joke about as ‘the
movement movement.’ Jimmy termed the ‘physical
subculture.’
Physical culture was what the fitness movement
was before advertisers took a dump on our self-
esteem by pointing out all of our wrongs while
promising false confidence through their products.
It was empowerment through movement—not the
attempt of superficial pride through mirrors and
scales.
You looked strong, powerful and in shape
because you were—a concept based on passion
for ability, now lost in the vacant sea of skin-deep
obligations, eating disorders and enjoy drugs.
The body is a tool for greater purpose, not just
the end result of training. Training is the means to
an increase in the quality of life through movement,
which is how I define the word ‘fitness’ in my first
book.
The physical subculture movement is the
modern, organized effort to incorporate centuries
of physical rituals and beliefs in exercise and
movement into an integral part of all aspects of
culture.
Whether through lifting heavy objects of all
shapes and sizes or finding new ways to move the
body by itself, the physical subculture movement is
about strengthening the spirit through pushing the
limits of the body.
Why a subculture? It’s simple. We’re independent
from the mainstream modern fitness industry,
practicing and playing almost as an underground
movement against the modern corporate structure.
About a century ago, the quest for strength and
ability was the fitness movement. Physical culture
was the banner it fell under.
What went wrong? Since more money can be
made from trying to sell the quest for aesthetic
perfection and exploiting exercises as the snake
oil for beauty, a very limited view of exercise and
training has emerged—the obligatory path to a better
appearance. Or, to be blunt, a gym membership is
simply part of the war chest in the quest to get laid.
Marketing and promotion of exercise is the
magical tool for sexuality. Shallow self-esteem
through aesthetics helped usher in decades of self-
image woes and issues that have created entire
industries to both feed and cure low self-esteem, as
well as to give therapists job security for centuries.
The formula was easy and it’s still used today.
Look at any health and fitness magazine cover. Here’s
the equation proven to be an effective moneymaker
for commercial gyms and supplement companies for
many, many years: You are ugly. We can help. This
marketing formula sure works better in our society
than trying to sell the physical culture concept of
movement, that physical strength and performance
increase other qualities of life as well. That just
doesn’t sell. Looking good, which apparently comes
in a bottle over three easy payments, is an easier sell
than being good, which aside from being a great
deal of work, is free.
Bernarr McFadden used this as a slogan for a
physical culture magazine that he started in 1899:
Weakness is a crime. Don’t be a criminal. Movement
should be that integral to our existence, but not
through the obligation of aesthetics.
Over time, performance and ability of the body,
which has a direct and strong impact on the spirit
and mind, took a minor role in training. Today,
the fitness industry is a sham, selling gadgets,
supplements and imagery—not actual exercise or
ability.
Curves, 24-Hour Fitness and all their kin
promote and perpetuate aesthetic stereotypes
while providing very little real exercise science or
training. The mere fact that there is such a thing as
an ab machine just proves how silly the industry has
become.
The physical culture movement has always been
around. It just may be hard to find these days. It
has become a subculture—a movement forcing the
mainstream to evaluate what training really is.
~6~
This is transcript of Chip Conrad’s Why on Earth? Our Sweet Chant of Frantic Power Excerpts audio lecture.
If you’ve received this material, do not own the audio lecture and would like to learn about it, visit www.movementlectures.com.
For more from Chip, visit him at bodytribe.com.
This is a list, and by far not a complete list, of
what this physical subculture includes—
• Passion for strength, not an obligation of the
scale
• Training without mirrors
• Understanding the mind and spirit better
through movement
• Picking up something heavy, really heavy—
no fear of the body’s abilities
• Using real training tools with long histories,
no gadgets or fads
• Embracing training as playtime—intense
and brutal playtime…but playtime
• Acknowledging and exploring capability
• Training techniques that are useful,
enjoyable and sacred
• Of course, it is banishing weakness
For years, the American fitness psyche translated
balance to mean ‘unstable surface equals awesome
six pack.’ Now, less than a decade later, you can still
find these goofy balance toys, but usually they’re
being given away on Craig’s list or collecting dust in
the corner of a gym that once had them as part of
the group exercise program.
Research repeatedly showed that no one was
getting much better at anything thanks to these
gizmos. The more alert trainers learned that even
the opposite was true. Great, you can balance on a
half globe of rubber, but while training for that, you
forgot about a little thing we like to call strength.
Try to handstand. That’s balance.
The word ‘balance’ still pops up with frequency
in fitness copy and even in gym names. In these
cases, let’s hope the word has something to do with
the integration of multiple approaches to wellness,
letting the brain and spirit join the party along with
the muscle, bone and the nervous system, all bound
together for the cause of organized peace—peace
among the systems of the body, this community of
power, the combined systems of our beloved flesh
packets and their ticklish ethereal innards. Yes, soles
are ticklish. Just ask them.
 Here’s our own personal mega machine. It would
be nice if the instruction manual made more sense,
but it’s simply a single sentence most of us will not
read anyway. “Don’t mess this up” is all it says.
At one point in our personal history, this might
have made sense or maybe we were supposed to
understand this at a much younger age and somehow
hold on to that sagacity as we expanded physically.
Heck, as snotball makers and diaper wetters,
we were pretty balanced. We ate until we weren’t
hungry, not until we were full. We slept when we
needed it, which was a lot. We could squat before we
could walk. This was all conducive to figuring out
the world, gleaming the largest amount of education
we would ever get in the shortest amount of time.
How’s that for mind-body connection? What
we learned the most about the body was that the
walking thing takes some serious practice. We also
learned the most about the world—walking and
talking. Damn, we’re good! That’s balance. Striving
for this as adults isn’t a bad little task to take on.
Lauren Kott wrote a great article called Life
Lessons from Lifting in MILO over 10 years ago; I
still dig the words. Here are some clips.
“To me, lifting is the meditation, salvation and
sanctuary. When I’ve been able to count on very little
else in my life, the weights have been there. They are a
constant in a life full of variables.”
“Yesterday, today and next year, 100 pounds
will always be 100 pounds. How that weight feels
to me might be different over time, but the weights
themselves are steadfast and abiding. There is so much
fight a lifter must possess that naturally translates into
the rest of your life. I call it ‘lifting from your soul.’
At times, there is something more than shear bodily
strength that drives the weight up. The weight teaches
us to have balance in our lives.”
She goes on to explain how. Simply, physically, a
body out of balance will not reach top performance
whether it’s structural (tight muscles, weak muscle
chains) or causal (too much equals bad things
happen, too little equals not enough good things
happen).
~7~
This is transcript of Chip Conrad’s Why on Earth? Our Sweet Chant of Frantic Power Excerpts audio lecture.
If you’ve received this material, do not own the audio lecture and would like to learn about it, visit www.movementlectures.com.
For more from Chip, visit him at bodytribe.com.
She goes on, “There it sits—100 pounds. Is it
heavy or is it light? We decide. The weight stays the
same. It is you and I who choose to change in order
to meet the weight head on.”
The way I interpreted this was as follows. If we
replace 100 pounds with any obstacle or challenge
we might be facing, the meaning doesn’t change.
That’s another lesson of the iron. If we can make the
choice to change to meet the weight, then why not
anything else?
Euripides said, “The best and safest thing is to
keep a balance in your life, acknowledging the great
powers around us and in us. If you can do that and
live that way, you are really a wise man.”
Now I go completely quote happy. My final
thoughts on balance will be spelled out in the
poetry of Rumi and then translated by Rumi’s
scholar, Wayne C. Allen. Rumi wrote, “Rise up
nimbly and go on your strange journey to the ocean
of meanings. The stream knows it can’t stay on the
mountain. Leave and don’t look away from the sun
as you go. In whose light you’re sometimes crescent,
sometimes full.”
Wayne C. Allen from the Phoenix Centre has
this to say about that poem:
“Rumi wanted us to understand one thing. The
path to deep understanding, which could be called the
path to enlightenment, is an easy path. It is a downhill
path. It is a guided, illuminated, clear, direct path.
“Human beings have been making the journey
difficult or impossible for themselves for 100,000
generations. This doesn’t make the path difficult. The
difficulty lies in our resistance to self-responsibility.”
Balance in life involves giving up thinking that
anything is so, and accepting that all things simply
are. Balance involves letting go of having to enforce
our judgments on others. We never get over judging.
We all judge all the time. The question becomes
“What do we do with those judgments?”
If we beat up on our self or others, we have not
learned balance.
 About twice a year, we hold powerlifting meets
at my gym through the American Powerlifting
Association.
Recently, we held the California Raw
Powerlifting Championships. Out of the more than
50 lifters, about half were women. Out of those
women, a big percentage of those were from our
gym. Our team was also made up of several guys.
Everyone met their demons head on and conquered
their obstacles with complete focus and will.
As I’ve been known to write before, “the weight
on the bar is secondary to the battle against it.” When
the battle is 100% effort, the journey is complete and
successful. Although the battle itself yields truth
and consequences, it is this journey where the real
teachings are revealed.
Don’t mistake this as a license to follow the
same path perpetually. A journey with no ending
never releases all of its secrets, so for our lifters their
quest cultivated into their small wars with gravity.
Now with that over, we begin planning for the next
journey.
Who wants on the bus? Several folks inquired
about the number of women Body Tribe had on our
team. Although there’s a whole bunch of bribing and
blackmailing going on, there’s another story and I’ll
tell that one.
It’s like this.
There are screaming gyms and there are gyms
of a quieter intensity. Aggression, which is what we
call this semi-violence behind our maximum effort
lifting, has many faces of expression.
For strength athletes, the best gyms are always
the dens that allow these expressions where it’s
understood that the war with gravity’s dogma
requires strategies, warriors and weapons that
might frighten normal marshmallow gym goers
who prefer softer, gentler tools and techniques.
On the other hand, any member of any strength
army knows that being surrounded by folks who
believe in the low-output, low-result tedium most
health clubs perpetuate will invoke rage or insanity.
Hence, there’s the need for a home for our sweet
chant of frantic power.
~8~
This is transcript of Chip Conrad’s Why on Earth? Our Sweet Chant of Frantic Power Excerpts audio lecture.
If you’ve received this material, do not own the audio lecture and would like to learn about it, visit www.movementlectures.com.
For more from Chip, visit him at bodytribe.com.
But not all homes should be built the same. A
lot of credit should be given to strength sports for
being a very approachable means of release. There’s
some truth to a romanticized notion that’s expressed
for many coaches and lifters I’ve come across that
anyone is welcome. This goes for both genders.
Of course, there is a caveat to the invitation
that’s often more implied than directly stated—be
prepared for battle or you will be eaten alive. In
other words, “Come on in. Join the party. However,
bring everything you’ve got because the iron accepts
nothing less.” Therefore, most strength sports are
inclusive as many testing grounds are, but don’t
accept the invitation unless this journey suits you.
This is where many will turn away. They
misinterpret the ritual. Around these parts, the
ritual is the effort—not the outcome. To the
common eye attached to a common American
brain, the ritual might be interpreted as simply a
quest for big numbers—not just big numbers, but
bigger numbers than the next guy or gal.
Where are the lessons there? Our instructor
is the iron and our lessons come from the mano-
a-mano struggle against Earth’s pull. A ‘womano’
would not be a gender correct version of this phrase
since mano-a-mano translates to hand-to-hand.
One of the biggest reasons for this misconception
of outcome versus process—just big numbers versus
total effort—is due to presentation. To be blunt, not
everyone wants to be yelled at all the time.
There seems to be a trend in some strength
sports, especially powerlifting and not so much in
weightlifting, that the violence against the bar needs
to be demonstrated in personality and action before
the lift and by everyone involved.
Shouts, screams, huffs and the loudest music
available seem to be common staples, dare I say
trends, among powerlifting gyms. Why? It’s because
it works. It really does—but not for everyone.
So…how our team had such high numbers of
women; there are two reasons. We really emphasize
the importance of the journey over the outcome—
that training and movement, especially intense
strengthening movements requiring an all-out effort,
are very potent tools for personal empowerment.
Secondly, we offer an environment that promotes
a subtler, more reflective psyche. For many, this is
more effective than the personified aggression.
I talk about the two environments in my book
Lift With Your Head, explaining that visualization
for performance might be separated into these two
different rituals—the psyche. Every powerlifting
competition, most collegiate wrestling tournaments
and the occasional football locker room embrace
the psyche as a pre-battle ritual, perhaps trying to
invoke the inner berserker potentially found in all
of us.
In these sporting situations, the ritual
involves a lot of yelling and snorting to the point
of hyperventilation and sometimes maybe some
slapping. It sort of sounds like porn, doesn’t it?
Psyching up is an attempt to stimulate the
competitor through the excitement and perhaps a
little pain of the high-energy overload of sensations.
Somehow the bombardment of this extreme sensory
overload is supposed to create more focus. Some
swear by it. Others will argue its contradictions.
However, it is an accepted ritual in many realms of
competition.
Then, there’s the quiet. The quiet is the ritual
from the other side of the tracks. It’s often the ritual
of a truly, scary opponent. It’s the dark side of the
moon where focus is found through complete
concentration and utter control of the senses.
Martial artists and weightlifting competitors
dwell here often. This is the uninterrupted landscape
the athlete can count on to calm the thoughts and
extinguish external stimuli.
The psyche is Scott Mendelson getting the crap
slapped out of him by his wife before he bench
presses. The quiet is the still and the calm that
fills an Olympic weightlifting room right before a
competitive lift.
For anyone interested, we welcome you. We
want you to be here in your strength journey if you
want to be here. However, you have to want to be
here. This is not just a physical place. A dojo is the
~9~
This is transcript of Chip Conrad’s Why on Earth? Our Sweet Chant of Frantic Power Excerpts audio lecture.
If you’ve received this material, do not own the audio lecture and would like to learn about it, visit www.movementlectures.com.
For more from Chip, visit him at bodytribe.com.
philosophy, inspiration and appreciation that grow
from a tribe on their path. It is the center of our
ritual. In Body Tribe’s case, it is the pursuit of the art
of strength.
A dojo, which is sometimes defined as ‘the
path of the way,’ is more than a school, more than a
gathering place and more than a training center. It is
where morality, strength and character can be fully
experienced.
Common for some martial arts dojos is the
kun, or the words, uttered at the end of each lesson.
Loud, conscious and with conviction, these words
are uttered by an instructor to be repeated by the
class.
They might go something like this although
often in Japanese. “Work to perfect your character.”
“Have fidelity in seeking a true way.” “Cultivate a
spirit of endeavor and perseverance.” “Always act
with good manners.”
This is a vocalization of the morality needed
to balance the physicality of the training with
the character of the spirit. Notice the similarities
between this and the Buddhist Eightfold Path. Every
religion probably has a name for similar concepts.
Ignoring these beliefs and ideas encapsulated in
the dojo kun will in the long run have a negative
effect, both on the individual and on the evolution
of the dojo, or the tribe as a whole.
Although not a martial arts center, Body Tribe
is still our ritual center. It’s very much a dojo. I have
a personal dojo kun as well, although it’s a simple
mantra.
Whenever I leave Body Tribe, I say, often
quietly and to myself, “Thank you for keeping me
humble and strong.” I truly mean it each time,
often confirming it by looking out at all the people
and equipment in my gym with reverence and
appreciation.
I stole, paraphrased and editorialized the
following from Xin Qi Shen dojo in Seattle. These
are worthy tenants about each member’s role within
the dojo.
 Training in the strength arts isn’t just
physical, but mental and spiritual. Each practice
is to strengthen and train our body, mind, energy
and spirit.
Nurture excellence.
The principles remain constant, but the
methods can change.
Seek to improve the art and improve the
standard.
Keep thoughts and comments positive and
healthy. That’s a big one.
Train diligently. Refine your body, mind and
spirit. This is your responsibility. Your teachers can
show you the way and help you, but only you can
develop the skills.
Argue for your limitations and sure enough
they are yours. The next time you say, “I can’t,”
replace it with, “I don’t want to try.” In other words,
take responsibility for your actions and behaviors
even when training. Limits are set by your mind
much, much more than your body.
The traditional concept of the dojo is a tactile
experience with a chosen ritual space as well as
a mental one. Dojo members, to complete the
connection with the physical location, not only
train there, but also participate in its maintenance
and existence.
The dojo is simply a physical reflection of
their connection with themselves. Self-respect is
portrayed through respect for their space, their
equipment and their tribe. The experience is a pro-
active one—understanding the foundational needs
of the dojo and therefore taking them in hand and
addressing them whether it’s through the exchange
of ideas or simply getting on your hands and knees
with a rag in hand, keeping it clean and pure.
Here’s a thought from the heart. I had just missed
the first deadlift I’ve ever missed in competition.
Until recently, the deadlift and I have been close,
more than just party buddies. We’d sometimes
finish each other’s sentences. We’d have sleepovers
and wax profoundly on Facebook about the most
recent Twilight movie. We were totally BFFs.
~10~
This is transcript of Chip Conrad’s Why on Earth? Our Sweet Chant of Frantic Power Excerpts audio lecture.
If you’ve received this material, do not own the audio lecture and would like to learn about it, visit www.movementlectures.com.
For more from Chip, visit him at bodytribe.com.
But there I stood defeated on my second attempt
by a weight that would normally be my opener. The
barbell was just staring at me with what I perceived
to be a slight snicker.
I believe at this point everyone on the team
had already hit a PR and more were going to, but I
was currently being heckled by gravity and its iron
accomplice.
What was this gnawing in my gut? I’d like to
pinpoint the slight tremble and crimson-soaked
vision as rage. It would be so easy just to sling a sign
around my shoulders that read, “Beware. Angry
guy. Just stay back.” That wasn’t it exactly.
I was lonely. Not only did I feel abandoned by
my friend the deadlift, but body and soul weren’t
dialoguing like usual since the brain was so quick
to break up the party and start bitching about all the
usual suspects.
“Training was off, a stressful week, sidelined by
a sickness recently along with all that traveling” said
the brain. Excuses don’t end the loneliness. They
offer the doorway of cognitive dissonance a respite
from blame, but that band-aid fell off pretty fast
when I had to face my third attempt at lifting the
damn bar.
Body Tribe trainer AJ, who was helping out as
a head judge, somehow caught my eye and pointed
to his chest. He said, “Lift from here, not from here”
and then pointed at his head. His message was
clear—from the heart. That’s where body and soul
dialogue to each other. When that chatter begins,
the loneliness ends.
I’m slow, but not entirely without a collection of
sure-fire methods at my disposal for following the
recommended path out of my head.
First, smile. Second, pet your dog. She moseyed
right up to me as I approached the platform. Then
I fought perhaps the biggest deadlift battle I’d
ever experienced. However, the three white lights
(upraised thumbs since we’re poor and can’t afford
the fancy technology of a judge-light system for our
meets) confirmed my victory over gravity at that
moment.
 I know it is fleeting, since gravity has a much
bigger, more expansive history than I do. It has an
incredible array of tricks and lessons, picking the
right moments to teach us what we need to know.
But at that moment, gravity relented just enough
and then smiled at my success. It was not my best
meet in terms of numbers, but the lessons were
invaluable. Journey trumps outcome yet again—eye
against eye.
Scarlett, my pit bull, is my four-legged foster
child. She has a knack for choosing movies. Staying
conscious through even the opening credits isn’t
really her thing since once she gets comfy, she’s out
cold. However, she does pick her proposed bedtime
watching with a plume. We share very similar tastes.
Last week, she was adamant that we watch
a documentary on the X-Games—that quaint
sporting freak show that brings together a handful
of folks who are more daredevils than athletes and
more magicians than competitors.
The ‘how do they do that’ quotient peaks the
scales higher than any David Copperfield show. In
fact the events beg the question, how do they even
come up with the idea to do that?
Well, Scarlett spoke, so my old iMac tickled
Netflix’ fanny. Soon I was streaming a high-octane
documentary about the 2008 or 2009 X-Games. Do
you ever wonder how the brave and absolutely loony
souls who do back flips and such on motorcycles
practice these moves?
My curiosity was satiated when the movie
began with one of the best in the world, a Trent
Reznor meets a 12-year-old Danzig-looking, quiet-
spoken adrenaline junkie whose name escapes me,
practicing a move never seen before into a big foam
pit, only to be lifted out by a crane. That’s how they
practice.
Now, this trick supposedly trumps the double
back-flip in difficulty, which seems to be the
most incredible stunt up to this point, although
my untrained eyes are still partial to it since that
double-back flip is just weird. It was 60 feet in the
air backwards—twice—on a motorcycle. That just
looks ridiculous…beautiful, but ridiculous.
~11~
This is transcript of Chip Conrad’s Why on Earth? Our Sweet Chant of Frantic Power Excerpts audio lecture.
If you’ve received this material, do not own the audio lecture and would like to learn about it, visit www.movementlectures.com.
For more from Chip, visit him at bodytribe.com.
These guys rarely ever practice the trick on solid
ground before the contest. They make sure they feel
confident landing into a pit of pillows or foam, and
then pray they’ll nail it on the dirt. Yikes! I will not
spoil the outcome for you. Sure, I will. The guy nails
the trick and wins the gold.
It’s the training sequence that has gotten me
giddy, in no small part due to some well-crafted
narration. The featured philosophy of the flick was
quite a lot of alliteration. The featured philosophy of
the flick was that of independent competition, man
or woman versus him- or herself.
Sure, there are other competitors to best if the
gold medal is to find a home around your neck. But
like strength sports, the competition is mainly you
versus gravity. Nobody else’s outcome has much
effect on yours nearly as much as your own.
The narration went on to explain that if your
competition is you, your enemy knows your
weaknesses. Doubt can turn to fear. He’s in your
head literally. It’s too bad my poor dog couldn’t stay
awake for this one, although it might have been too
heady for her. She just likes to watch people do cool
stuff. All of the talk about personal empowerment
through intensity sounded too much like the crap I
spew all the time. (Yawn).
Yet she would have enjoyed the drama that
unfolded on this thing called the Mega Ramp. If
you don’t know what a Mega Ramp is, look it up. It’s
pretty cool and there’s an X-Game event for it.
One quote from the movie that I kept in my
head during my next weightlifting competition was,
“He thinks about gravity as some people think about
evolution. It’s just a theory.” Anyone, someone,
everyone.
This is the summary of a recent dream I had. I
looked down at a strange gliff-and-code phrase on
a napkin from a Sunset Strip bar and translated it—
anyone, someone, everyone.
These were the words found on a similar napkin
given to the guitar player of Agent Orange by their
singer, Gabby Hayes, the night they both died.
At least, that’s what it said in the dead rock star
guidebook that I was using as a connect-the-dots
map while I toured around LA. Yeah, that was my
dream. You’ve had that one, right?
Well, that sacred napkin rune was enough to
wake me from the dream—kind of excited—to
contemplate. Now thankfully, no one in the band of
Agent Orange has actually died. Their singer, Mike
Palm, looks nothing like Gabby Hayes. Where was
I? Anyone, someone, everyone.
The name ‘Chip’ is not on my birth certificate.
It was bestowed upon me at birth though, and,
although it lacks the respectability of being on that
important document, I do consider it my real name
mostly through familiarity, not by winning any cool
points. It’s kind of a silly name.
This is not my exclusive party. A great percentage
of my friends refer to themselves with names other
than the moniker that claims first chair on their
early paperwork.
Imagine, if you will, being in a position of such
great respect or a mind-numbing ego trip that you
would answer to the name ‘Guru of the Blissful
Refuge.’ There are two important things you should
do to earn such a name. I’m going to let you guess
what they are.
That’s right. First, you need to become a guru.
Then you need a pretty groovy pad—so groovy in
fact that you could label it not only a refuge, but a
blissful one at that.
Recently, some words from someone who
actually does answer to the name ‘Guru of the
Blissful Refuge’ jumped into my consciousness
and held a little forum in there. The good Swami,
a devotee of Bhakti Yoga, was a highlighted subject
of a recent documentary on modern yoga practices
called Enlighten Up.
I’m about to talk about another movie, another
documentary. I’m hooked on them. The film’s
premise was to take a newcomer to yoga, or at least
our Westernized concept of it, and steep him in it
with the goal of discovering enlightenment.
The filmmaker and director was a long-time
practitioner of yoga, although it was never quite
~12~
This is transcript of Chip Conrad’s Why on Earth? Our Sweet Chant of Frantic Power Excerpts audio lecture.
If you’ve received this material, do not own the audio lecture and would like to learn about it, visit www.movementlectures.com.
For more from Chip, visit him at bodytribe.com.
explained why she herself had not found yet
enlightenment. Although beautifully filmed, the
movie fell tragically short of its intended premise.
Or did it? There was a fascinating final interview
with the aforementioned guru that so blatantly laid
out the differences of Western thought and the
original concepts of yoga that it was a little shocking
when the film’s subject and the film’s director seemed
to miss the point entirely.
Enlightenment—like fitness, wealth and success
in general—is a very individual pursuit in our culture,
often using fancy language like actualization to avail
selfishness in the quest. We seek enlightenment. We
search for it. We build personal campaigns to find it
and make documentaries of the process. It is a path
to rise above.
This seems to be a very Western goal—this rising
above. We find all sorts of ways to attempt it and we
have very strong judgment calls on the value of the
goal. To rise above at the suffering of others through
greed, domination or violence is bad.
Rising above through this supposedly benign
pursuit of enlightenment would wear a more
positive badge. We call it good. To the Bhakti, one
who follows the Bhakti Marga or the Bhakti way,
enlightenment has nothing to do with rising above,
searching or finding.
In fact, the root of yoga—the actual meaning of
the word—is to ‘come together.’ In their case, it is
to come together with God. However, do not make
the mistake that God is referred to as a literal higher
being, one whom coming together with would mean
rising above the riffraff of humanity. It is much
simpler and more bonding than that.
The many Bhakti references in the movie never
once called God ‘him’ or ‘it,’ but rather everything.
God is the ultimate tribe, free of many of our
Western religious ideologies. They don’t rise above
to understand their relationship with this tribe, this
planet or this universe. They simply come together
with it.
John Lennon was onto something. So how did
the guru answer the redundant questions of, “What
do I do and how do I do it?” He repeated, “Be you.”
What does this mean? He said, “As much as possible,
try to get rid of what you are not.”
The basic Body Tribe premise is to ask, “Why?”
Everyone in the fitness industry will tell you their
versions of how and what, but who is actually asking
why? Yet, we need to.
Well, thankfully, the guru of the Blissful Refuge
agrees. He says, “It’s not important what you are
doing. It’s important why you are doing.” You can
prepare food for just consumption. You can prepare
food for someone you love. You can also prepare
food for your Ishtar, your Bhagavan, the Lord. The
action will be the same physically.
But inside it is different. If you are forced to do
some cooking for someone you don’t like, you will
do it. You will cook, but you will not enjoy it.
Then he said, “You came to meet me. You could
have come by cycle. You could have come by car.
You could have come by elephant. You could have
come by foot.”
To reach here, there are so many directions. That
depends on you and where you are present because
you are the most —let me use my word—the most-
est important person under the sun. Or as Lennon
wrote, “The wind is low. The birds will sing that you
are part of everything. Dear Prudence, won’t you
open up your eyes? Look around.”
Anyone, someone, everyone.
My mystic dream napkin made perfect sense.
You are not anyone. You are someone. As someone,
you are not just anyone. You are everyone.
Thus, let me end this by repeating, “Why? Why
are you doing this?” Go ahead and ask yourself the
purpose behind your training. “Why?” You can
always look up what you’re doing and how you’re
doing it, but first, to set real goals, ask yourself,
“Why?”

~13~
This is transcript of Chip Conrad’s Why on Earth? Our Sweet Chant of Frantic Power Excerpts audio lecture.
If you’ve received this material, do not own the audio lecture and would like to learn about it, visit www.movementlectures.com.
For more from Chip, visit him at bodytribe.com.