I spent the last couple of months bemoaning my injuries and freaking babying myself. I didn't train for the cert enough or at all. I didn't think I could hit the numbers. Apparently somewhere along the line I forgot what weight I had to lift and press. I stumbled on the numbers...in a notebook.
Baby...the weight I have to pull and press is so very doable I can taste it. If I had effing trained, there would be no doubt that I could pass the deadlift and the military press. Plus training is the process and I effing love the process. I feel like I missed out on something.
We were told we needed knee length socks for deadlifting...so although not entirely evident in this pic...I decided to sparkle.
The strength component of the bench press is also within reach but, honestly, it will still difficult. Ya know what...I am giving it my best effort.
Here is what is making me so angry right now...right this minute. I never ever ever give up on myself. I fight. I do what I need to do. Oh did you say never? Not true this time. I gave up myself. I didn't try or put in the work. Don't get me wrong. I was working out but I wasn't focused on the goals. I WAS EFFING READY TO DROP OUT OF THE CERTIFICATION. I appreciate the fact that Dr. Hartle convinced me otherwise.
I am facing tomorrow with a new frame of mind. Anything can happen. Anything is possible. By the end of the weekend I may actually pass a skill or two. Rock on...