Inspirational & Motivational Content for Training & Working Out
So you are feeling low? Losing Hope? Wondering why everything you try hard at seems to fall flat on its face? I have been to that dark place many times, and if I’m totally honest, it’s never far away. So sometimes I like to throw some videos, music and imagery into my head in the hope that the old Mojo Magic will pop up and prop me up with wings of hope.
What follows is a random list of film clips, music soundtracks and quotes that have inspired me throughout my life journey. To enhance the feeling I will add a small piece of writing to add some mood and to try to encapsulate that Mojo feeling that sometimes fills us all with a seemingly infinite feeling of enthusiasm, energy and positivity.
Sit back and feast your eyes (and ears)….
Don’t ever tell me that Sylvester Stallone can’t act. If you do then you are instantly off my Xmas List. (basically that means that I don’t like you any more so get out of my space and stop breathing my air).
The visuals on this clip are stupendous. The realisms are true to my memory of life. The 4a.m. alarm clock, the radio bleating some random hyped garbage, the cheap and dirty, ill-fitting light grey tracksuit, the misty morning and the basement steps. The dingy little bedsit he lives in, contrasted with marvellous archeological City facades. Slightly Gothic parapets and gargoyles. Reminds me of London rooftops and dingy, below-street-level dwellings.
Raw eggs for breakfast and a slovenly belch thrown in. Perfect scene. And then to see Rocky puff and pant his way up the steps, half asleep, half mesmerized by life contrasts. Combine this with the deep and provocative orchestral soundtrack, reminiscent of the highs and lows of gym training, and the tangible human struggle to push on and achieve your dreams, despite everyday challenges and heartaches. I loved Rocky back then. I still do. Those scenes will always inspire me.
For the insatiable Rocky fans, here’s a few more clips to get you psyched up for doing some training.
This is a quote from the introductory scene of the immense classic film ‘Chariots of Fire‘. The music and the slow motion running combined with ecstatic facial expressions and old-fashioned sportswear moves me deeply to this day. That was the England I remember, and this scene does somewhat make my eyes fill up with water. And I must admit that I go cold, glazed and reminiscent whenever I hear this powerfully evocative musical masterpiece.
Jesse Owens at the 1936 Olympic Games – a story told me by my dear late Father – Roy Goodwin. A true story about the Olympics during the German Nazi era, and the fortunes of a heroic black athlete, and forever emblazoned in my mind as the first time in history that Sport became forever entangled with, and inextricable from, extreme politics.
And now, so many years later – on my lips is a question – is there any truth in ‘Fast Twitch Fibres‘? Because, as a white man who once had supernova ambitions for athletic prowess – I sought the truth and had infinite questions, many of which were answered factually and level-headedly by my Father Roy Goodwin.
Jesse Owens achieved international fame at the 1936 Summer Olympics in Berlin, Germany, by winning four gold medals: 100 meters, long jump, 200 meters, and 4 × 100-meter relay. But indeed, it is obvious that Jesse was a victim of the institutionalised racism of that era, and was quickly pushed to one side where he faded into insignificance and perhaps in some peoples warped minds, ignominy.
One thing is for sure in my mature adult mind today. That nobody can ever enter into international level athletics without being heavily laden with Global politics in some way. There has been, and always will be, an inevitable intersection between Sport and Politics, and deep down somewhere in the depths of my soul as it was as a younger ambitious man, I want to say to my young sports students – ‘you cannot fly with the weight of the world upon your shoulders, and you must learn to shield yourself from big world events as a duck deflects water from its back’.
Mojoh