Look at you being brave enough to come read this post. Great to have you, hopefully this won't devolve into another dark, depressing rant. Did you look at the title though? Seriously, take a look. Yep, you read it right the word anger is in the title. It's okay if you go, really it is. I don't blame you, but the thing is if I don't put this stuff here it takes up space inside my head and I find myself in tears while in the middle of a seated forward fold during Yoga Corr thinking "What the ACTUAL HELL??? Where did these come from?" Interesting point, it is next to impossible to draw a deep breath when you are trying really hard not to let anyone else in the class, instructor included, know that you are crying.
Hang in there if you've decided to read this, I'm going to at least start this on an upbeat note. Well, upbeat for me. Possibly just weird to you unless you share my love of putting really heavy stuff on your back, squatting then getting back up. I keep seeing this quote that squatting is like life it's about getting back up when something heavy tries to bring you down.
So September 1 buddy training time came. I was excited to be going to Pride, I am ALWAYS excited to go to Pride, even when I am nervous about what awaits me on the other side of the door I want to be there. I knew, because I asked Dane the night before at Muscle Hour that I would be squatting. Squatting is good, it's one of my three lifts and it used to be my second favorite, right after deadlifts. Then there was an incident last year when I let my gaze drop for a split second when I was squatting 255 pounds and that loaded bar followed my eyes. It is a horrible feeling to have a barbell on the back of your neck. I did my best not to panic and eventually (probably a very short amount of time though to me it felt like about 10 years) the bar was not pressing into the back of my head and Dane made me do another squat. Since then I approach my squats with a whole lot of trepidation and conscious effort to beat back that mean little voice asking what I'm going to do if I can't complete the squat. Where my eyes go hasn't been an issue since that night, they are glued to the ceiling like my life depends on it. Because let's be real, it kind of does. Yes when the bar gets over about 250 pounds Dane is right there spotting me from behind and if something starts to go wrong I know enough not to try to save it, I need to dump that bar.
September 1 I wasn't anxious about squatting at all I was ready. I figured I'd be working on heavy sets, I didn't know I'd be going for a PR. The bar looked really nice loaded with my new PR, 4 blue 45 pound plates, 2 yellow 35 pound plates and 2 iron 5 pound plates. As I was watching Dane put the 5 pound plates on it occurred to me that the bar was now over 300 pounds, I was well over my previous PR of 275. Of course the bar I squatted prior to that final squat was 295, 20 pounds over my PR and before the 295 Dane had me squat 275 pounds 3 times. I decided I was going to give it a go. I'd make it or I'd fail, either way I was still the same person and Dane would still train me.
So how did that 305 pound squat go? I'll let you be the judge. Personally I watch it and I want to squat lower so there is absolutely no question whether or not I got to parallel. Dane told me I did, I am not so sure, maybe because I got red lighted for my 2nd attempt squat at my last meet. Anyhow...on with the video!
The point is that I squatted 305 pounds. I squatted more than I have ever weighed. Did I know I would make it when I started? No I didn't I had absolutely no idea if I could do it, but I knew I was giving it my best shot.
Where does the anger come in?
Actually the anger never goes away. It is a part of me. I keep it buried, deep down, but it is always there simmering. Something I shared with my father besides the smile and looks. He had a temper too, it took a lot to bring it to the surface, but when it surfaced, watch out. I am finding that I can use the anger that I have tried to keep buried deep and locked away as fuel for my lifts. I love lifting, I always will, but to get that bar to do what I want I can't be sweet, kind and meek. I need to be a beast, a monster. I need to know deep down when I step up to the bar that I can lift it. I need to be confident in my ability, confident in my training and I now know I need to be angry.
It's not enough for me to look at Tyler or Dane and say I'll try anymore. Yes I am strong, but with the weight I want to pull, squat and press now I need to be strong as strong mentally and emotionally as I am physically. The confidence isn't always there, but the anger is. It is amazing what you can accomplish with a little bit of confidence and a whole lot of anger. I am working and training to replace the anger with confidence, but I suspect the anger will always need to be there in some fashion. I might never walk up to the bar and snarl or scream, but that fierce look I seem to have every time I lift heavy: that's what simmers deep within coming to the surface.
No one needs to worry I'm going to unleash the monster in my working life. The monster lives for her time at Pride, thats when she can come out to play or come out to struggle through a workout. The monster came out to play Wednesday at Muscle Hour for Sumo Deadlifts and then stuck around for the power cleans, front squats and push presses. That monster whispered that I had permission to do a different form of front squat and I had done them for a few rounds, but that was quitting and giving in and I was NOT giving in: I was doing front squats the preferred way and I was doing them that way from that round forward. I didn't get from 10 to 1, I was working on my round of 2 power cleans, 2 front squats and 2 push presses when time was called, but I am proud as hell that I got it together and did the majority of the front squats the way Coach D prefers.
Thanks for reading!
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