Your thoughts control your destiny. They manifest in every aspect of your life.
Applying dedication to a pursuit is a privilege.
I face the bar. I dread it. I fidget and take as long as I need to warm up, longer. First I grip the knurling on the right, that exact same spot, doing the same with the knurling on the left, and I slide both hands along the bar and back, finding comfort in ritual. Then I duck underneath the bar and search rhythmically for that perfect spot for where bar meets body, just above the rear delts, through the traps — better leverage for bouncing out of the hole. Sometimes it doesn’t feel perfect, but I unrack anyway and take three steps back. I try not to think too much, I just want it over quickly. Fear I push away. Let the pounding music erase all thoughts of pain and quitting. I can only think of each number, and how many more numbers there are to 10. Push with every ounce of thought, collapse, scream, laugh and triumph.