Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Last night, Awesome Husband and I went to the gym for a really quick session before heading over a friend's house for dinner. We knew we didn't have much time but we both had had really stressful work days and wanted to lift some metal. Also, my new weight lifting belt and chalk came in and I was desperate to try them out.
We get to the gym and we rush over to claim a power rack. The amount of guys near the racks is unbelievable. Most of them are working out together, four or five to a rack. But we were there with a purpose and I was not going to be swayed from that. So Awesome Husband loads the bar to 95lbs and we get to work.
I decided to change my deadlift style to sumo because my lower back is a major weak point and I keep pulling it out doing conventional deadlifts. Sumo deadlifts require a lot less hinging at the hips so there's a lot less load on your lower back. Some people call this cheating.
Some people are dumb jerks that I ignore.
So we stayed at a light weight for a few sets so I could learn how to sumo deadlift. At one point, I brought the bar down before I had pushed back with my hips and scraped my knee to crap. But it's alright. I was in the zone.
Once we loaded to 135lbs, I put on my new belt. I feel like the bros around me gave me some looks. I don't hate gym bros. I really don't. They make me smile. And a lot of them are super cut. They're devoted to what they do. Power to you, Gym Bros.
But as soon as someone makes me feel unwelcome, that's when I rage out.
I managed to keep it together, chalked up my hands, and did a solid set at 155lbs.
Then I hit two reps at 185lbs. That was my one rep max before.
So I looked at Awesome Husband and said, "Add a five and a two and a half".
When I moved myself up to that bar, I had an incredibly odd moment of terror and adrenaline and joy and almost burst into tears. How badly I did not want to fail was eating me alive.
I've been working towards breaking 200lbs since I started deadlifting. I've wanted it for at least two years now.
I've thrown my back out twice reaching for it.
I've tried and failed.
I've stopped deadlifting for months at a time out of pain and fear and disappointment.
This time. This time I chalked my hands. I breathed in and out for a solid minute. I tightened my belt.
And you better BELIEVE I got that bar off the ground and locked out.
When I put that bar down, I high fived Awesome Husband. And I leaped around the gym. I wanted everyone around me to lift me on their shoulders and parade me around the gym. That part didn't happen. But it was still an awesome moment.
And this morning, I went online and I bought myself the necklace I pinned months ago for hitting that goal. And I am riding the high.
Goals, man. Meeting goals feels really really good.