How different life would be if I were actually talking about automatic weapons….
The little friend I am referring to is anger. I had an icky day, a long day with multiple annoyances. I’m trying to cut back on my pop consumption which is guaranteed to give me a raging headache for the next week or so. Work is getting hectic. Then add a sore back into the mix (just so we’re clear, this is the same sore back that I have been b*tching about for the last three days). Yeah..I wasn’t in the best mood. And then I started lifting. I had to do 5 sets of 5 @ 145 for box squats. I started warming up with 95 pounds and my back was already tired. Angry. I put 135 on and literally struggled. More Angry. Then I started my working sets. IT HURT. All I could think of was how absolutely wonderful it would be if Howlers were a reality.
Of course, I would deliver it to my trainer via text message instead of the standard Owl method.
Instead of getting frustrated and upset (once I start crying my lift is pretty much over), I got more mad. And hey…it actually worked. Okay, so maybe this is one of those ideas that is intuitively obvious to even the most casual observer….but it has some how escaped me up until this point. It worked tonight though. For example, I have this bad habit of getting to my sticking point in a squat and just giving up when it gets hard, but tonight I didn’t. I got to that sticking point a few times. The first time, I just hung on. I was about an inch off the box and completely frozen, but I stuck it out and managed to stand up. The second time, I was a few inches up and actually started to drop back down before I caught myself and finished the lift. Hells Yea! (I never actually use that expression, but it seems somewhat appropriate here?)
I wish I could say that it got better from there, but it didn’t. At this point my back was cashed out…hurting and tired. But guess what was next on the books……stiff leg dead lifts, back extensions, and shrugs. Fan- bleepin- tastic. The dead lifts hurt. I would normally have drawn them out all night because I didn’t want to do them, but I was so irritated that I just wanted the whole thing to be over with. I burned through the rest of the workout….like I was kinda tough or something (anyone who knows me realizes this is laughable at best).
The only silver lining of the workout was that my PT (lying on the ground and lifting my arm up) was actually a lot easier! Which is good, because I don’t think I could have handled another negative. I guess the other good point is that I didn’t go postal….it would be horrible, a world without all those teenage, hormone-filled, hockey players from the gym.