What’s this girl made of? The one that walked into the gym last fall full of big ideas about training like Rocky and becoming a badass? It’s time to see.
I’ve been training for the meet Saturday for almost four months, to the constant beat of ‘180 squat’ in my head. Everything I did at the gym — every lift, every stretch, everything — was geared toward what I’ll do Saturday.
I had my final workout Wednesday morning, such as it was. A few light squats and one at 150 (I remember when that was my big scary number), some push-ups, some glute-ham raises and for fun a few pull-ups (which I’m glad to know I can still do after not attempting them in many weeks).
I left feeling curiously sad, and suddenly intensely nervous. Training’s over. There’s nothing more to be done but rest and eat. An email that morning from Ben helped, though. It just said, “you’re ready.” I confessed my nervousness and trepidation about not being able to do anything more. “It’s time to see what you’re made of,” he replied. And a needed reminder: Breathe.
So we will see just what I’m made of. I’ve walked the walk. I sport the “I Can Squat Your Husband” tshirt (even though, yes, technically, I can only squat maybe 40% of all your husbands). Now it’s time to show that all that work was for something, that my confidence, that’s Ben’s belief that I can destroy the 175 record is for a reason. I know I can squat 180, and I will. After that, well, we’ll “have some fun,” according to Ben. Bring it on!