With the low reps and short tempo in the current program, training has been getting more ambitious with weight used for the exercises lately. I am slowly getting to the numbers that make my stomach churned even when I just look at them. The omnious presence of performance anxiety makes the iron looks deceptively heavier before I reach for the iron.
“Be brave, Brian”, “You can do it, Brian” are the encouragements I tell myself when I fumbling for the strength I need to resist the heaviness of the iron against the force of gravity. Strength is not all that I need to muster to accomplish the deed but the willpower from the abyss of my soul or the F word for the rescue when the willpower is AWOL. F word does have its brilliant way to disguise itself as Wilhelm scream, which is described as ‘Dying Cat Noise’ by a friend. You know who you are. I would rather call it ‘Sexy Noise’. Anyway, I just need to do whatever it takes to move the bloody weight for more gains.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask myself often when I am reaching my pain threshold. Deep inside me, I know the answer. Mediocrity is not what I strive for. I fight this war of mediocrity for a long time. Hence, this is certainly not the time to be give in to this evil voice of mine.