So I am doing my utmost right now to actually be smart. I know, I know… why start something so radically different for myself now? Isn’t it a little late to show up to that party? Probably, but I’m also a crazy dreamer.
My decision to engage the rational and logical parts of my brain for a change (as opposed to the parts enamored with XBox, muscle cars and the supreme hilarity of Tosh.0) stems from a bit of a setback in my training program. A few weeks back I was absolutely ROLLING. Things seemed so free and easy and new records (at least on several on my important lifts) were coming almost every week.
Heck, I even was able to reach one of my all-time goals of hitting a 500 lb. squat. I have video of it, but I am debating about putting it up just yet. Why? Because once I finish the set and realize what I just accomplished, I lose my collective mind like an utter fool. In a positive way.
Ahh… but what cometh before the fall, my children? Pride, of course. I just hit a 500 lb squat! Who knows what mountain was there to conquer next and yield to my steely will and chiseled handsomeness? So I kept pushing at the same pace… umm… and I decided I should try to get ready for soccer… and I started sprinting a few times a week… and hey, wouldn’t it be great to be a little leaner too? Yeah, yeah… throw that into the mix… plus the utter hectic pace of work.
Whether you realize it or not, everything I just outlined is a recipe, but not a recipe for some kind of completely decadent pumpkin cheesecake of goodness. Oh, tut-tut my friends. That would be crazy talk. No, this recipe would be more like a steaming 5 lb. ball of rat poop. Deelish, n’est-ce pas?
That’s when my lifts were going down instead of up. And while I mean that in terms of overall performance, I also mean it like “I tried squatting that weight and on my 2nd rep, the weight went down but… uhh… it didn’t go back up. Yeah, not so much.”
And that’s when the conundrum of this site’s very motto… “Relentlessly push yourself forward”… found itself a wee bit out of sync with how I was feeling.
And therein lies the issue for so many people with passion for something: how do you sometimes pace your passion? This is a real sticky wicket for a lot of people who are all about weight training (especially guys who have an easy time letting ego, pride and machismo get in the way of using an ounce of simple common sense). We can be excellent at going at something full bore, but what about then easing off the throttle and collecting yourself for the next round of fun? Hmm. Maybe not my best quality for sure.
What it really got down to was a lack of listening to the signals my body was giving me loud and clear to chill the hell out.
Our passions move us. Drive us. Give us the chance to risk big, fail big and (hopefully) win bigger than we could ever imagine. They should… no… must be celebrated and cherished.
But it’s also OK to give them a few moments of respite so they can soak up their energy anew and burn oh-so-brightly again. They won’t hold it against you.