Is this a post about a fish? About a woman…the woman?
Naw, it’s about deadlifts. The 455-pound pull that I let slip out of my hands.
This deadlift attempt is a perfect analogy for parts of my life. And while frustrating — I’ve watched the clip a handful of times — it was also insightful.
To do so much work and not finish. To not hold onto the bar and pull just a little longer. During the pull, was I in the middle of a dip? Or was it a truly a dead end?
Did I prepare correctly? Did I really give it my all?
Or did I stop short, afraid of the possible strain? Afraid of the impending work.
Does anything change now that more people know I’ve failed?
The uncertainty could drive me. Drive me to better, or drive me insane.
So, should I abandon it, and move on to something else?
Or should I lean in, dedicate myself to the process? Be more aware, and do it smarter.
Dedicate myself to the journey, not the result. Find my weaknesses, address what actually needs fixing. Do more of what’s working.
Can I do it consistently?
Maybe there’s more to deadlifts than just picking something up off the floor: The questions I ask after failing.
Did I learn from it? And do better?
Or do I let it haunt me? Stay in my head when the next opportunity presents itself.
Maybe this is about a woman.
I did pull 465 a couple of weeks later.
One more question: What’s next?