Fall in love

13 Feb 2013 by Chuck, 2 Comments »

Mens Category 105kgCalculate your percentage. Scrap it and round up, way up. Ain’t got time for percentages; might as well make it a scary lift.

Tighten your shoes until your feet start to go numb, nothing past the heel is worth worrying about anyhow.

Chalk your hands until they look like a geisha’s face in 1680 Kyoto. Choke on the dust cloud like a coal miner in 1880 South Wales. Watch the particles float though the air like you’re trapped inside a snow globe; you’re trapped in your commitment to the lift.

Walk toward the bar with a purposeful stride like you own the platform, like you own the gym, like you own the whole damn world; you do.

Wrap your hands around the bar, set your hook grip. Squeeze the bar until you feel the knurling perforate your skin. Tighten your grip until your nails crack and your thumbs start to bleed. Looks like being a hand model is out, good answer.hookgripbleed

Ass down, chest up, heels in. Break the ground like a Saturn V rocket breaking free from Earth; gravity is nothing.

Pull the bar back into you. The bar is your dog, leashed by your arms; keep that filthy mutt on a tight leash.

Keep your chest up, your eyes on the horizon, your knees out, and keep pulling. Pull harder, and harder still; you can never pull hard enough.

Time to punish the bar. Time to make it pay for every dirty look it gave you from across the empty gym. Bar to hip. Hard. Hulk Smash.

Get back. Finish back, further. Keep the heels in, dig them into the platform until fissures form under your shoes crying for mercy.

The bar was fast, now it’s your turn. Dive. Pull under. Commit to the weight of the world being overhead; gravity is still nothing.

Turnover and snap your arms to the ceiling. Snap them to extension like a wet towel summoning welts and drawing blood on skin weaker than yours.

Settle in and be patient. Find balance and let your bones settle deeper into their new positions in your joints. Hang out in the hole; hover inches from the blood and sweat weightlifting mental gamestained platform.

Drive through the heels and start the slow assent. Grind your way back to the top before you drown under the ocean of plates and iron.

Stand tall. Stand proud. Stop and enjoy the moment of victory. Enjoy your domination of the implements that have left many before you broken and defeated.

Slam the bar. Drive it back to hell. Feel the world shudder under just how damn epic you are in this moment.

Fall in love.

Fall in love with the perfect lift, the perfect moment, the perfect finish. Fall in love with your success, your victory.

Enjoy this moment while it lasts, because it will be fleeting. These lifts are few and far between. And “far between” is full of pain, frustration, uncertainty, and disappointment.dimas victory You’ll hate weightlifting, you’ll hate the platform, the bar, and especially yourself.

But if you fall in love with the feeling that perfect lift earns, you’ll be back. Your love will bring you back time and time again. Hard times are certain and there will be more bad than good, but the love will allow you to endure. You’ll always keep chasing that dragon, because despite how mean that bastard is and how abusive the relationship can be, you’re in love.

“Love is something you can’t describe
like the look of a rose, the smell of the rain,
or the feeling of forever.”

– Kristen Kappel

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2 Comments

  1. chantel says:

    best fucking post ever. love it.

  2. OpsMarine says:

    I absolutely love this. I LOVE it. I love IT.

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