The first time you watch the film "Pumping Iron," it can be easy to leave with the conclusion that Arnold is, in a word, arrogant. He relentlessly ribs an increasingly flustered Lou Ferrigno as the contest gets closer and closer; he describes best friend Franco Columbu as "pretty smart, but … a child. When it comes to the day of the contest, I am his father." And when asked about his own posing, he declares with an immense grin, "It's perfect. It's down to a point. Wait until you see it!"
But with repeated watching (and we're assuming that if you've made to week seven in this trainer, you've watched it a few times), a different version of Arnold comes out. By 1975, he is simply relaxed and confident. He's worked so hard, for so long, to construct the perfect competitive machine, that he can be totally confident it will work when called upon. The comparison to a high-performance automobile is obvious, and Arnold made it memorably in the book version of "Pumping Iron."
"The better you get, the less you walk around showing off as a muscle guy. You know, you wear regular shirts, blue shirts—not always trying to show what you have," he says. "You talk less about it. It's like you have a little BMW—you want to race hell out of this car, because you know it's just going 110. But if you see guys driving a Ferrari or Lamborghini, they slide around at 60 on the freeway because they know if they present that accelerator, they're going to go 170."
With just a handful of workouts left, ask yourself: How are you wearing your strength?