the night before.
Get up, go to the gym on Saturday, and lift weights. I had to take two weeks off because of Day Job exhaustion and the combo sinus crud and flu shot reaction. (I had a rather impressive immune response to the shot this year.)
The conversation Saturday morning went something like this, but more pungent.
Body: Hoooooly cats, that’s hard!
Brain: Good! Two more reps, just two more reps.
Body: That’s heavy!
Brain: You can’t improve if you don’t push.
Body: Then you come down here and lift this thing, you [rude word].
Brain: Can’t. Someone’s got to run the place.
By two in the afternoon, my body was letting my brain know exactly what it thought of that morning’s exercises. By 0600 the next morning, my legs, back, pecs, lats, and pretty much everything between my neck and wrists screamed “bloody murder how could you do this to us!!!!” That means I need to do it more, especially since I was still able to roll out of bed and go walk for a couple of miles before sunrise.
This past week Lawdog had a post about how iron never lies. Either you lift or you don’t. Iron will win at some point, and you have to decide – do you go back and try again, or do you walk away? I’m back and trying again. I’m dumb that way. Tell me “have you ever thought about quitting” and I will power through just to prove that you’re wrong. Yes, I have sinus congestion that’s making me a bit light-headed (stuffy ears), I’m chronically tired from Day Job, and walking’s easier than lifting weights. Doesn’t matter. I lift, or I don’t. I add plates or I don’t improve. The iron doesn’t lie, it doesn’t care how my week was, it just sits there, waiting for me.
My knee hurts, my quads are calling me names, my upper body is having uncharitable thoughts. Next time I’ll be a little better, squeeze out one more rep, or two more, or go up five more pounds. Since January I’ve gone from benching 35 LB to benching 75 LB. I’m slowly getting my shoulder presses up to 40 LB. I can easily lift boxes, heave textbooks, squat down and pick up things without hurting myself.
Iron is hard. But sometimes hard is good. Even if it doesn’t feel like it the morning (or even two hours) after!
Need More Coffee 😉
I, in turn am truthful with iron.
I don’t want to.
You can’t make me.
Congrats for doing the work and confronting the iron!
The only iron I lift is cast; Frying pans and Dutch Ovens.
Benched 82 pounds this morning, for seven singles. And I am going to be feeling that for the next two days… but on the other hand, I haven’t had a shoulder dislocation since I built the muscle mass up enough to hold it in place.
The iron is honest, even when I don’t want it to be. It’s not going to lie; it always is what it is, whether I want it to be that or not. Which is what gets my butt out of bed in the mornings to lift; if I do it, I get the results I want. No other way to get them… and if I cheat, I’m only cheating myself.