Strong Days, Weak Days, Egging On And Acceptance

You’re going to have strong days and weak days.

Surely, when it comes to life and every single aspect it has to offer you in general.  However in this case, I’ve learned to accept this strong vs weak days truth just like I’ve accepted the system in the United States of America is corrupted beyond means.  But, yes, I’m talking about the many episodes of my Training Life.

What’s interesting enough is there are still days and nights where I want to go against myself and the acceptance of naked reality when there’s someone egging me on quite in the way groups will instigate an all out brawl in High School.  (But maybe that was my High School and not to be confused with yours?)

There are moments of betrayal even when I know how hard I should or shouldn’t push myself.  Even when I’ve kept to close examination and intuition of my own body.  I know when I’m feeling weak as a person who’s lost their will before they even began a weight-loss or school program and I also know when I’m feeling army strong and can take on all the planets in the solar system.

Last night I wasn’t completely weak.

I noticed on numerous occasions, on the days I’ve let out shit loads of emotions externally (mostly anger) that by the time evening falls and when it’s my time to shine I can’t gain that lost energy back.  So it’s tremendously vital for me not to waste precious exertion on anyone or anything.  But there are good days when every street corner presents a red light to drivers so you can cross.  And than there are bad days where the beauty of the sky becomes a state of hell.  I can’t promise myself to be a saint when it comes to maintaining composure at all times.  But I can try.

So I started with Box Squats (which I’ve never performed in my life).  Did 5 sets of those.  I moved right into Military Presses than came Deadlifts.  Typically I warm up with 135lbs (doesn’t everyone?) and increased.  When I did my reps for 175lbs (grip: double-handed) I felt that it was tough as oppose to last week when it felt light as a feather.  Up to 195lbs, (making a snow-white of a mess with chalk because I like being dirty) still came off like a struggle.

My personal record is 210lbs for 4 reps.  However with the way I felt last night I knew I wasn’t going to hit that mark or even break a fucking record.  I told my partner in crime, “I don’t have it in me.  I don’t even want to do those 5 goddamn reps for 205lbs.”  He went on, “You got it.  Let’s go.”

I did 2 reps.
It seemed fairly easy.
I counted 10 inhales.
Got another rep in.
Both my entire hands hurt.
I grimaced in pain.
Is this chalk not working? 😉
I shook it off.
Once.  Maybe twice.
No more buying time.

Partner in crime says,
“You’re almost there.  You got it.”

But deep down inside I’m fucking scrambling.
My normal chants in my mind aren’t working.
I searched around the gym for strength.
I’m sweating under my own pressure.
15 inhales/exhales later.
I get the 4th rep up.
My grunt is even louder.
It comes from the womb I believe?

And once the dead weight comes to it’s deadness.
I crouched down and shuddered.. at knowing the 5th rep is a no go.
I still refused to admit defeat of any kind.
Partner In Crime is saying,
“You got it.  You got it.”

20 inhales later.
I make the first attempt to my 5th rep.
Not even halfway up I crashed the weight back down.
I felt pitiful while trying to keep composure.
But I make no mention out loud.

Partner in crime with his odd words of encouragement:
“You’re not giving up that easy.”
As I walked away from the barbell.
Smacking my hands together in anger.
Powder flourishes in the air.
I shake my brain this time.
I snapped, “I’m not!”

I attempted another rep after 15 inhalations.
With my body trembling,
I pulled more than halfway this time…

And I want to make it for me.
I want to make it for him.
I want to make it for every Fitness Family Member I know.
I want to make it for every woman.
I want to make it for my aggression.
I want to make it for everything I stand for.
But I didn’t have it.
And even though I had someone egging me on.
On one of my weak days.
And though I kept pushing.
Betraying my body.

I was reminded by nearly injuring myself.
To stop.
Even if my partner didn’t know any better or know my body.
Because my form was crumbling.
Because my struggle quivered in my sneakers.
Because it occurred during my anger..
Of not getting the last rep where I needed it to be..
When I know in every shred of my being
I’m fucking stronger than this.

Years ago I’d get depressed and mope.
But now I understand how you have to handle your business.
By handle I mean:  GIVE IT YOUR ALL!
Because sometimes it’s going to be one of those weak days.
Even when you’re mentally:  One-hundred percent.
So accept it!