(Only in one area)
I never understood weightlifting. Lots of pain, no obvious gain.
Partner loves weightlifting. Her spirit animal is the ant. In graduate school, she could bench press more than her bodyweight, a particularly impressive feat for an estrogen-powered life form. (Among non-professional female powerlifting competitions, benching one’s bodyweight is generally enough to medal.)
Earlier today, I benched 155lbs for 5 reps. A new personal record. Not very impressive for anyone who has lifted weights for a while. Still, I yipped with glee. I remember the day when I broke 135lbs (one 45lb plate on each side of the 45lb bar). Now, I crank out 4 sets of 145lbs with no trouble.
“I remember the day when X was hard. Now, X is easy.” ← a wonderful lesson of weightlifting.
A coaching client of mine has felt incredibly stressed this week. He tells me he wishes not to feel this way every week. I told him he won’t, for two key reasons:
- If he truly wants to feel less stress, he can grow slower. It’s a real option. (One he’s not taking 😉)
- As you improve, the former difficulty feels easy.
I’ve promised Partner that, when I can bench press my bodyweight, I will bench press her. We might be six months or a year away from that day. But one beautiful trait of the gym: if you show up and do the work, you will see the results.
Lots of pain, no obvious gain? After a few months every day, the gain is unmistakable. Once I learned to breathe properly, the whole experience became enjoyable.
And the pain? You mean the intense difficulty that only lasts for a few seconds? You call that pain? I call it fun.
Julian Wise 