Everyone has seen a friend go through one. We've all witnessed one up close and personal. Because of this friend we've had to experience unnecessary drama. We've heard their sob stories; we've wiped away their tears. We've even given advice, "You're better than this." or " You don't deserve to be treated that way." We've tried our best to persuade... to reason, but to no avail. When its good its sooo good but when its bad, its terrible... unhealthy. The thing is... its rarely good. Emotional abuse, God forbid physical abuse. We've all watched it unfold before our eyes in our friend's lives, vowing that it would never happen to us. We've all been pushed to the point that we were forced to quit helping, quit listening. So exhausted from all the drama they are voluntarily enduring. That will never be me. I will never let that happen. Until one day you wake up... and you are in one. You didn't even know it! Everything was going great, normal, perfect... or so it seemed.
I came to this realization today with weightlifting. I'm not able to lift often enough or probably heavy enough to experience too much physical pain but the emotional pain is all too real. Last week I couldn't really lift because of my hamstring. Of course all I wanted to do was lift. I had a craving, a yearning... I was like an addict having withdraws. Monday I felt healed up and I lifted... it was great. I pr'd (set a personal record) on snatch. I was high. When its good, its so good!
Just two days later, I'm tired. I hadn't missed a snatch yet and out of nowhere before I attempted the next one... I got dome'd up. My mind declared that I wouldn't make it and whats worse, my body listened. I hate that feeling. I had lost before the fight even started. Why does my body listen? I want it to rebel. I want to flip the off switch... shut my mind down and allow my body to do something it has done countless times. Then I could prove my mind wrong. My horizons would become endless. But I'm sitting there defeated... angry. The body is capable only if the mind is willing.
Later I wondered, is it weightlifting's fault or is it my own? Human nature is so quick to point the finger. It's always the other person's fault; it is impossible for blame to be placed on me. Is this relationship merely revealing my true character? Close relationships sometimes bring out a person's true qualities... good or bad. Now I feel even worse. This means I have to face the facts... I quit. The bar didn't make me. The weights didn't tell me to. I got scared. Why? I've lifted it before. I quit. That's what I did yesterday but that's not who I am. I can change. There's always the next attempt, the next lift... there's always today. I'm not breaking up, I've got too much invested. Maybe we'll go to counselling. All my friends sigh and roll their eyes. Maybe they will quit on me but I won't quit on weightlifting. I love it.
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