this past thursday was a good gym day. i mean, it wasn't spectacular, or anything, in that i lifted a brazillion pounds or met personal bests in everything. i wasn't setting records and i wasn't in 200% better shape. but i finally had others take notice.
oftentimes, while i'm prepping myself to lift something, david'll say stuff like "no worries, you got this, this is a piece of cake." stuff to sorta make me think like its no big deal, and its easy.
and, really, while i understand why he's doing it, i hate it. i'd much rather hear how fucking difficult its going to be, and what a fucking heavy set this is.
my whole life is geared around challenges. seeing them, meeting them, and beating them. i'm too short, too pale, and too ugly for most everything, and that has actually been great to me, as its developed my entire persona. all of my back bone, all my courage, all my unexplainable arrogance... its all based on the fact that someone, or some society, told me i couldn't do something.
so, when i walk up to a set that weighs more than me, i like it. i like hearing people nearby say somethin like "lookit this guy" and point in my direction. its my major, defiant "fuck you" to society.
on thursday, there was this whole group of guys lifting way more than i could, but all standing, impressed by what i was doing -- dead lifting and power squating on a bosu ball (which is like half of a bouncy ball, that you try to balance on).
each one of them tried after me, and wasn't able to balance with the weight i had, then sorta walked away in awe of mr. short pale and ugly.
