It’s not about the weight
There is just something deep and mental about difficulty. It is about fighting because I can fight very hard.
Today was deadlifts, the lift that contorts the body to its most unholy look. Veins screaming under stretched flesh. Traps holding onto shoulders like hooks in the back of corpses.
335lbs for sets of 6, real slow, thinking about my hamstrings, my stomach tight and rigid.
I am not the strongest, nor the fastest, or the smartest.
I am tough and I am disciplined. I know that the time spent not improving myself is time that I am sacrificing the gift.
