“A citizen who cannot run, lift, carry, or fight is not ‘at peace’—they are disarmed. And in a world that respects strength, disarmament is surrender.”
Let’s retire the lie.
Your body is not a “temple.”
Temples are for worship, for stillness, for reverence.
They don’t haul water up three flights when the elevator fails.
They don’t lift a fallen branch off the driveway.
They don’t grab a child before they step into traffic.
They don’t stand their ground when predators circle.
Your body is a war machine.
A tool of survival. A vessel of agency. A responsibility.
And if you’re not maintaining it—sharpening it, testing it, trusting it—you’re not “self-caring.”
You’re negligent.
Why “Wellness” Failed You
The modern fitness industrial complex sold you a story:
- “Tone your arms.” (For what? Carrying a purse?)
- “Find your inner peace.” (While your grip strength fades?)
- “Love your body as it is.” (Even if it can’t lift a bag of dog food?)
That’s not empowerment.
It’s disarmament disguised as compassion.
Free people don’t “love their bodies unconditionally.”
They demand more of them—because they know:
Your physical capacity is the bedrock of your freedom.
If you can’t carry your groceries, you’re dependent on delivery.
If you can’t lift your child, you’re a spectator in their life.
If you collapse after climbing stairs, you’re one illness away from helplessness.
That’s not aging.
It’s atrophy by choice.
The Citizen’s Fitness Minimum
You don’t need a gym membership. You don’t need protein shakes or heart-rate monitors.
You need five functional capacities—proven across centuries, from farmers to firefighters to frontiersmen:
1. Carry
→ The Test: Walk ¼ mile with 20% of your bodyweight in a backpack.
→ Why: Real life demands load-bearing—water, supplies, a child, a neighbor in need.
→ Train: Fill a backpack with books or water jugs. Walk. Add weight weekly.
2. Lift
→ The Test: Deadlift 1.5x your bodyweight from the floor. (Start with 0.5x.)
→ Why: Lifting isn’t for sport. It’s for moving furniture, firewood, or a fallen comrade.
→ Train: Use a sandbag, suitcase, or even a sturdy laundry basket filled with towels. Hinge at hips, keep back straight, drive with legs.
3. Push
→ The Test: Do 10 strict push-ups (chest to fist height).
→ Why: Pushing opens doors, shoves threats back, stabilizes you on ice.
→ Train: Start on knees or against a wall. Progress to toes. Add a backpack for resistance.
4. Pull
→ The Test: Hang from a bar for 30 seconds. Then do 3 pull-ups.
→ Why: Pulling climbs fences, hoists gear, drags yourself to safety.
→ Train: Use a sturdy tree branch, playground bar, or door-mounted pull-up bar ($20). Start with hangs → negative pull-ups → full reps.
5. Endure
→ The Test: Walk 3 miles in under 60 minutes—carrying 10 lbs.
→ Why: Stamina isn’t for marathons. It’s for walking home when the bus stops running.
→ Train: Walk daily. Add hills. Add weight. Add time.
That’s it.
No burpees. No spin classes. No “core activation.”
Just five capacities that keep you free, useful, and unbreakable.
The Moral Dimension: Strength Is a Duty
This isn’t about vanity.
It’s about accountability.
Heinlein’s citizens didn’t “work out.” They trained—because they knew:
“The price of freedom is the willingness to do sudden battle, anywhere, any time… and the ability to win.”
You may never face bullets.
But you will face:
- A power outage in winter (shovel snow, haul wood),
- A natural disaster (carry supplies, help neighbors),
- A moment of crisis (grab, lift, run, hold).
If your body fails you then, it’s not bad luck.
It’s unpaid debt—to yourself, your family, your community.
Strength isn’t selfish.
Weakness is.
How to Start—Today—With Nothing
You don’t need gear. You don’t need time. You need 5 minutes and a decision.
The Daily Five (5 minutes, zero equipment):
- Walk 5 minutes outside (builds base endurance)
- Do 3 push-ups (start on knees if needed)
- Hold a wall sit for 30 seconds (builds leg resilience)
- Carry a gallon of water in each hand, walk 20 steps (builds grip + carry strength)
- Breathe deeply for 1 minute (calm under stress = combat readiness)
Do this every morning. In 30 days, you’ll be stronger than 90% of adults.
In 90 days, you’ll be reliable.
Debunking the Excuses
“I’m too old.”
Nonsense. At 72, Ernestine Shepherd (a former secretary) became a competitive bodybuilder. At 90, Fauja Singh ran marathons. Age isn’t the enemy—inertia is.
“I hate the gym.”
Good. Neither did your ancestors. Train outside. In your hallway. In your yard. Freedom isn’t built on treadmills.
“What about injury?”
Then modify. Train around it. A one-armed farmer still fed his family. A limping soldier still carried his rifle. Adapt—or surrender.
Final Orders
- Test yourself on the 5 capacities this week.
- Pick one weakness. Attack it for 10 minutes, 3x/week.
- Carry something heavy today—even if it’s just laundry.
Because your body isn’t for display.
It’s for duty.
And in a world that confuses comfort with safety, the most radical act is to become capable.
Now go train like your freedom depends on it.
(It does.)
1 thought on “Your Body Is Not a Temple—It’s a War Machine. Train It Like One”