The definition of insanity is snatch clean and jerk. Everyday is dejavu, where hell is like Heaven. I cried today in training. The tears started falling down my face, like the sweat from my forehead. By looking at me you probably couldn't see the difference between the salt and the river of emotion. I have no idea why I was crying. The tears came with no warning, no invite, no reason at all. Maybe because today was one of the hardest training days of my life. It's been a week straight of maxing out twice a day....with no end in sight. Maybe my body wanted to shut down and rest. Maybe the devil in the red dress wanted to trap me in her room. I pushed through and finished the lashing that coach put on my back. Not because it sounds motivational, or because I am trying to show people I can, or because it makes me sound bad ass. I pushed through and finished because I have no other option in life. I am a one trick pony. I am the old show that keeps playing over and over 'til people get sick of it and leave. I pushed through because that's just what I do. Welcome to my roller coaster of insanity. I live in the never ending story that is filled with hurt shoulders and a future of hip replacements and walkers. ik
You think I am cocky and confident......you have no idea. I am the exact opposite. Between reps I sometimes sit and watch the others train, forgeting that I am on the team. I watch with amazement as monsters lift weight. I am the biggest Cal strength fan there is. I clap when the giants who stand 15 feet tall lift weights. I am like a little kid whose dad brought him to watch his first football game...wow. But then all the eyes turn to me. The cameras red light blinding me as it rudely waits for what I am going to do next. Who am I? Let me check......o wow I can snatch 166, I am a national champion.......and good lord I am more crazy than all these guys. This guy is nuts, and I guess that makes me nuts. The pressure makes it hard to sleep. I find myself talking to myself throughout the day to take my mind off the hype, and that damn bar that sits high above me. How many more minutes do we have in this therapy session? 10, ok perfect. I sometimes catch myself laughing in training when training gets hard, thinking about a funny movie I saw, what my dog did the other day, the joke my wife made, JON YOUR UP! Sorry Coach here I go.
Home sick, that's the feeling I had today. I felt like I was on a school trip away from home and I miss my mom. It's like playing video games by yourself late at night, you lose a sense of reality which brings your stomach a creepy pain. I hug myself and wish I didnt have to lift another weight. My body and mind don't see eye to eye, as they fight with each other everyday. If they could just get along, we as a team could lift more weight. There was a moment where I saw the outside light peeking through the door. My body said run! My mind said stay. When coach is not looking I am running for freedom! Sorry mind but I am with body on this one! Green fields and small town America sounds like a different kind of heaven. I should have been a biker, so I could see the landscape and breath the fresh air. Weightlifters only see the bench, barbell and weight. But in reality there is nothing outide the gym. In the gym is a never ending story of lifting. I am really just a kid who yells a lot, because that's what a person does when you have a concusion and you have no idea where you are. Its 3 AM in the morning and I am still up playing this video game.
Weightlifting is like The Shining. Snatch Clean and Jerk Snatch Clean and Jerk Snatch Clean and Jerk Snatch Clean and Jerk Snatch Clean and Jerk Snatch Clean and Jerk Snatch Clean and Jerk Snatch Clean and Jerk
Home sick 2012