Pulling off Band-Aids.

May 5, 2011

3 weeks ago, I decided that I would run my body into the ground as best I could while still pursuing maximal weights as often as possible.  I would say that I’ve succeeded in that.  For the majority of my current existence, I walk around in a constant fog completely devoid of any personality or creativity.  2 days ago, I opened and poured 3 packages of half and half into the garbage before realizing that there was no crème in my coffee which has no effect on me anyways.  I drink it for the taste alone.  My classmates find me hopelessly useless.   I can only imagine what my teachers think when they see a large, brown, open mouthed husk taking up space in the back of the classroom.  Conversations usually end up in silence after I awkwardly try to feign interest in who the fuck cares.  And most importantly, I haven’t been able to create anything .  Nothing.  There’s just no time and even less energy or inspiration.

Pretty much every Thursday is when I feel like I’ve hit rock bottom, which in my opinion makes it the most important workout of the week even though the weights lifted are a fraction of what I am able to do the next day.  I feel that if I allow myself to give in to the pains in my body and the deafening monotony then I have failed.  Because I know that just 100 miles away the Cal Strength guys are working harder and lifting heavier than I am every single day.  That’s all I need to force myself to start warming up and putting weights on the bar.  The first rep is always the worst.  It feels like tearing a Band-Aid off of my broken spirit.  I take 50 kilos again and again until I force myself to wake up.  I’ll lower myself to the bar and it will feel like I literally CANNOT perform the motion.  I force it.  It starts to come back and once again there is some level of consistency.  70. 90. 100.  Each one begins to hurt less and less.  For once, it’s not about the weights, it’s about regaining what I’ve lost.  And at the end of my “workout” I feel relieved that I didn’t leave that until the next day.  If I have to “peel the Band-Aid off” Friday morning, then Friday night won’t be everything it could be.  It would be another missed opportunity.  And I fucking hate missed opportunities.

In the hour and a half of free time before I go to sleep, I take comfort in writing to you.  Even if you don’t give a shit.  Even if you think I’m some kind of idiot for pursuing something so fanatically; something that everyone knows that I just don’t have the genetics or the upbringing to excel at.  I write to you because it’s fun and gives me time to organize my thoughts, but most importantly, it requires nothing from me.  So thanks.

I just got this album by the way. Expect a review from me at some point.  Spoiler alert: 10.0.

6 Responses to “Pulling off Band-Aids.”

  1. Everyone needs the reminder to be fanatical about something, so thanks for that. You’re doing great. You’re Inspiring others to work hard and kick their genetics and upbringing in the ass. You can do anything if you want it bad enough.

  2. Paudie said


  3. FYI, I do not think you are an idiot. I think you are a fucking badass.

  4. rabenfroh said

    you’re not an idiot. you are badass. samurai. or something else cheesy. whatever. rock on. it’s worth it.

  5. theo said

    well said, screw genetics. screw upbringing. let’s work.

    so many props for weightlifting + fleet foxes in the same post. the new album is sick.

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