I’m dripping with sweat, but it’s not a fever. I try not to think about the global pandemic as a woman’s voice rings in my ears. “The thing I hear most from people is that they’re scared,” she says. “I know strength because I’ve known fear. Deep fear. Fear usually comes from the unknown. So let’s break it down.”
That sounds pretty good right now.
“Let that shit go,” she commands. “We’ve done harder shit than this.”
When you lift weights enough to look like you lift weights, people have all sorts of questions.
“How much you bench?” (As much as I can.) “What gym do you go to?” (The one that’s open when I go.) “What program are you on?” (Time, dragging us all toward the void as we claw the dirt.) Questions usually stop there.
Programs. Plans. Training. Goals. We’ve come up with a lot of concepts and structures designed to imbue our workouts with a sense of purpose and make the act of repeatedly lifting weights feel like less than a literal exercise in…
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