I flirt a lot. I go through seasons where I flirt with the squat, and the squat is good to me. Sometimes, I even think I’m in love with the squat. I’ll dress up for our time together, wrap my knees, put on a pretty purple belt and chalk up my back. That moment when I hit a big number and crank out some singles, that’s a good day. It doesn’t have to be a PR even, but when I feel that power coming back up, man. I feel pretty darn accomplished.
But then a few days later, the dead lift winks at me. It’s all sprawled out on the platform, shinny big girl plates on, a little chalk on the bar for that rugged look. I can barely remember the squat on dead lift days. I chalk up for the dead lift, the dead lift has my full undivided attention. The dead lift is all about the chase for me, constantly trying to get the weight off the ground requires me to be on my A game every pull.
And then there’s the bench, which I like but I’m not ready for a relationship with yet. You might say, “it’s not you, bench, it’s me”. Which is true, I have issues with the bench because of my own weaknesses, but that can be read about here: http://www.themissfits.com/ive-got-issues/
Look, the moral of this post, which may seem silly, is that I genuinely love to lift. It’s easy to get caught up in the mechanics, the diets, the clothes, the cocky guys at the gym who think they know everything until they see you lift… I digress. Sometimes, we need to just remind ourselves why we’re here. We’re here to have fun. We’re here to lift. For me, it’s one in the same, and if it’s ever not then I “take a break”. But like all good complicated relationships, I always end up where I left off, on the dead lift platform (sorry squats… I love you really, but I LOVE dead lift).