Sometimes, to push myself physically to the ends of myself is the only way to find anything close to what resembles peace in this confusing world.
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The barbell sat on the platform: lazy, indolent, insouciant. It had always been apathetic. Maybe that's why she had to care so much about the lift, about the action, about the movement. Because the barbell didn't give a f**k.
The others watched, in between their own lifts. They had no idea what really went on in her mind. They assumed she was lost in technical reminders, or movement tips.
Tight mid-line. Engage your hammies. Deep breath.
Maybe a little psych-up self-talk: You can do this. The bar is light. Get this.
Sometimes, she was -- but sometimes, oh sometimes, she was lost deep in her...Read more