How About a Quickie?

...Post, that is.

Ok, I'll admit it: being too much of a perfectionist at times can be, well, problematic. That's why, when I'm low on time and don't feel like I'll be able to write up a good blog post, I'll let the blog, um, well, languish.

Kevin calls me out on a weekly basis about this, and I have to admit: he has a point. So here's a little something that I recently ran across on a forum that I thought was just about perfect. If this doesn't get you excited to lift, you need to have your heart examined!

Have you ever done deadlifts? I mean, have you gone into the gym thinking like. "ok today is deadlift day!"? No?

I do.

I think that there is no other exercise like it in the world. I fear it, hate it, and love it. I look forward to deadlifts like a child looks for candy. It is a drug and I am hooked. Tonight I go forth to do battle with it.

I feel nervous, like I was before my first real kiss. I will be singularly focused tonight to get a certain weight for 1 rep. This is the key for future deadlift workouts. I feel that this exercise could in fact have its own day if I could find the time. I must hit this weight, there is no question I am ready for it, just a question if my mental state will be strong enough to get it done.

I picture it now as I sit here waiting for the time to go lift to appear. The bar is loaded 4 plates on each side, it is resting on the floor. I see a face from a nightmare on the bar, it appears to be laughing at me, mocking me, taunting me to try to lift it. I walk over, squat down and set my hands. I breath deeply eyes not really in the present, mind tightening down to a narrow laser sharpened beam of utter concentration.

I take another breath, and lift it off the floor. I struggle, feeling the bar scrap my shins bloody. I feel the titanic strain on my arms, grip, shoulder, all over as the bar clears my knees. I stand up and pull the shoulders back, sweat running in a flood down my face, veins bulging on my neck. I lock it out and lower it to the floor.

It is done! The battle is over and I have beaten the demon, it no longer taunts me but rather sulks away to wait till next week. It never really is defeated, just beaten back for a time. I wipe my brow, my whole body is afire with a righteous blaze of accomplishment. Then, I realize that next time...next time is fast approaching for battle. I must stand ready each time to defeat the deadlift.

Good stuff!

-Jonathan