Life

Lifting heavy

January 20, 2019
Lifting heavy

They recommend practicing with a shoe. Or something very, very light. I started with my pink 5 lbs. Because Turkish get-ups are not for the faint of heart. They’re the real deal. 

Even with those baby weights, I shook my way through them. I thought about it the night before when I knew I’d have to practice 10 in a row in my morning workout. They were that hard. 

Then, slowly, trusting the process  (Don’t hurry. Don’t worry. Slow down. Calm down. Trust the process – thanks, MindPump), the reps became easier. Those girly dumbbells? They became a joke. 

I was ready for the big league : bring those 552 Bowflex dumbbells on.

When the delivery guy brought the boxes (yes, there were two), I thought there must have been a mistake. I had to double-check my order (maybe I had bought two instead of one?). The cartons were humongous, so big I could have comfortably sit in one of them. I had to figure out a whole strategy just to move them from the hall to the living room. Do I need to mention I live in an open space, and that the distance to cover is about 9 feet? Yes, they were that big. 

In that moment, I have to admit I second-guessed myself. Why the heck did I get this? They’re certainly not cheap, but beyond that, why a little 5’4’’ girl like me had to get dumbbells bigger than her quads? 

To grow stronger. That’s it. And in order to do so, I needed dumbbells that would challenge me out of my comfort zone. There’s only so much you can do with your own bodyweight (and lady-like dumbbells). 

Those heart palpitations, I also get them at work. I pitch the idea, I get the buy-in. Then only once we’ve started planning the project and getting closer and closer to the launch I realize how massive it is. This could be a game changer. 

The dizziness I get when I take a step back? I now embrace it. It means I’m moving in the right direction. 

I can’t stay in that passive consideration of what’s coming up too long though, otherwise it’ll prevent me from taking action. So I acknowledge it, then get straight back at it. 

One Turkish get-up at a time, I keep practicing. From 5 to 10 lbs, then 12,5. 

Until one cold January morning I wake up confident enough for the 15 lbs. 

I turn the little wheel on the side of each Bowflex dumbbell, adjusting the weight. Not paying too much attention to the sudden desire to throw up. Taking the dumbbells to my kitchen table, next to my yoga mat. Get into the groove, stretching my spine, prepping my butt (always prep your butt gals, it’s a must). Grab that f*cking dumbbell and do the first get-up. Then another one, and another one. 

Seven reps later, I move to the other side. And repeat.

Sure, I’m not up to 10 reps yet. But I didn’t train to failure. I’m in for the long game. I don’t care how much time it takes me to get where I want to go. Hell, I don’t even know where that is. I just know I want to constantly push the limit and see how much I can handle.

How much can I hold up in the air, take down to the floor, and bring back up? 

It has nothing to do with a number. It’s more of a game to see how strong can I get. How willing I am to never hang out for too long in my comfort zone. Slowly stretching it more and more. One lil rep at a time.

To me, this is what lifting heavy is all about.   

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