Dear Olympic Lifting,
I’ve toyed with you for years, but just recently, I’ve taken it up a notch with cleans, dead-lifts, squats and presses. But, holy hell, you’re heavy. And hard. And sometimes you leave my hands hurting and my heart beating out of my chest. Sometimes, you also scare the crapola out of me. So much so that even though I know you make me oh-so strong, I’m not so sure about you. Therefore, we gots to do a she loves me, she loves me not!
She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not: Olympic Lifting
She loves me: I love how bad-ass I feel when nailing a heavy lift with good form.
She loves me not: I hate when my form is off and I almost topple over.
She loves me: I love when I set a new one-rep max!
She loves me not: I hate when, on some days, even 75 percent of my one-rep max feels impossible.
She loves me: I love when I lift more than I think I can.
She loves me not: I hate when my mind is the only thing holding me back from lifting more.
She loves me: I love the feel of my hands around the bar. (No, that’s not a come-on.)
She loves me not: I hate that when the weight gets really heavy, my hands begin to burn and my grip begins to slip. Freaks me out.
She loves me: I love how you’ve shaped my entire body—from my arms to my back to my legs to my chest and even my core!
She loves me not: I hate how effing sore you make me. OMG.
She loves me: I love how, with you, it’s okay to slam stuff down and grunt a little.
She loves me not: I hate how, with you, it’s okay to slam stuff down and grunt a little.
She loves me: I love how you’ve challenged me in new ways, upped my confidence and made me realize that the only thing getting in my way a lot of the time is just myself and what I think I can and cannot do.
Okay, so yeah. Olympic lifting, you have my heart. Obviously.
Do you do any Olympic lifting? What would you add to my She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not list? —Jenn