Its Leg Day and you could give yourself a thousand excuses to pack up and go home. A recount of what leg training particularly squats is to me.
I approached the bar. I reach out my hands and grasp the bar. I embrace the coldness of the bar as i notice the sharp image of myself in the mirror at a distance. I straighten my thoughts. I question my presense. Why am i here for G? The blantant food throughout the day. The Protein powders that taste like shit. The tuna can which was never friendly. The giant pills that were difficult to swallow. The isolation and individualism which i have been embracing all this while. No. Im not here just because its part of my routine.I am here because I want to be here. I am left with the only expectations for the day which question me standing here looking at myself. I did my best in school. I got up at 6am and i am here in the gym at 7pm- the earliest that i could be. When other would call it a day and complain about the 4 hour bus rides everyday, my other half of the day has just begun. The other half of the day was dedicated to the conformity of the society to hold a diploma and the other half to my dreams. I shake my head. Time is a motherfucker. He waits for no one. Time is money and i never seem to have enough of both. I snap out of my thoughts and give my training partner the nod. Then i start loading my side of the bar with a plate. He starts first as i watch behind. Noticing his pace or form which i could improve on myself. he's done and I approach the bar not thinking too much and do an easy 10 reps focusing on warming up the joints and get blood pumping into the muscle. Trust me , the fibre tearing and stretch mark training is still to come. We load a second plate to the bar the same thing happens. Then comes the 3rd set. 6 plates on the bar and Im at the back supporting my partner up. With a knee problem(which everyone seems to have), and his age surpassing 40, standing at 1.68m perhaps, I give my my kudos for 3-4 reps. Then comes my turn we load another plate into the bar totalling eight plates. 8 fucking plates to 180kg inclusive of the bar. I never got used to such a weight. I'm still breathing hard. Trying to keep my legs straight(standing up). I look the the sides of the bar checking the thickness of the piles of weight and the eventness of the bar. That the brackets are up properly and the safety bar thrown on the floor. I noticed the bar is already bent from the 6 plated squats and now there's 8. Then i position myself below the bar. Feeling the cushion upon my shoulders. With my left leg forward into a lunge position i gather my thoughts and the torment that was approaching. My thoughts went wild. I comfort myself repeatedly telling myself that i have done this before and i shall do this again. Pain is temporary but glory is forever. This time people from the gym starts gathering to the benches behind me. The clear the front and i know that it was time. The time to descent. I push the weight up with the ready adrenaline. The suspense of the plates of the side leaving the rack. The bar bends and the weights at the side bounces up and down to the momentum of my steps to leave the bracket into unsupported brims. Then i descent with confidence for the first rep realising why squat is the most hated exercise. Then comes the second rep. People around start to worry about me more than myself. Then comes the third. I start to strengthen my balance with my legs sinking into the padded carpet. I survived. My partner is telling me to re-rack the weights but i refuse. Every rep matters. To what separates. My legs are shaking but i still stand strong. I descent into the forth rep taking everything with me. He stand behind me with his hand around my waist incase i lose it. Going down slowly is a challenge. Going against gravity is much harder. I shout. I scream. Whatever it takes to get my respect from myself. I did it. Im up and i re-rack the bar. Being hardly able to stand up i approached the side of the bar to re-rack the weights. Staring at the defeated bar with a grin of completence. Then i crawl to the bench as my partner starts filling up the smith machine. Then continues the other tormenting and toiling challenges.
Time for class.
Living on the edge. Strength and honour.
Hydher