strength

Don’t Let This Fat Fool You, Bruh. I Lift.

Last night at the gym, there were a few men acting very superior. Maybe they had a tough Monday, but one guy especially pissed me off. I’ve done a lot of research on my weight-lifting routine and watched multiple videos to make sure my form is correct. I’ve started out with a low weight and gradually built up the amount of weights I lift by five-pound increments over several months. I’m by no means lifting super-heavy, but I am lifting a decent amount. And I’m proud of how much I can lift now, especially considering where I started.

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Just for those who don’t know, when lifting a barbell, the bar itself is 45 pounds and then you add weights to either side. There are also some shorter barbells that you can add weights to.  My workout buddy and I have long discussed how much these shorter bars weighed because we had no idea. We’ve asked around and were told inconsistent amounts.  I need to know so that I can accurately add weights to either side. So last night, I decided to ask my new gym’s staff how much those bars weighed so that I would finally be informed. He didn’t know which bar I was talking about at first (there is an ez-curl bar that felt really, really light and then another bar hanging up that was more what I was talking about). So we started back to the weight area, and I’m trying to explain what I want to know. He says, “ohhhh because the 45 pound bar is too heavy for you so you need something lighter.” He says this in a tone as if I couldn’t possibly lift 45 pounds, and it was patronizing. Um no. My reply, “No.  I want to know because on busy days, the barbells are all taken. I want to be able to accurately know how much weight to add. I just finished deadlifting 80lbs (3 sets in fact).” He looked at me with a very shocked face. The  comment and shocked response made me pretty mad, but I am used to people making snap judgments about my fitness level because of my appearance. Maybe I got so mad because just 15 minutes before, some guy inserted himself into my buddy’s workout routine, letting her know that she needed to get lighter weights, or because I had JUST shoulder-pressed the same amount (and sets) as the “dude” next to me (even though I’m not there to compete, I did notice). Either way, I wasn’t feeling a lot of love from my male gym-goers last night. Keep hating fellas, it just fuels my fire.

 

 

PS: Buzzfeed knows.

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Guest Blog Alert

Sometimes I feel crappy for blogging about my heartache because it involves another person who doesn’t blog about his personal life, and a lot of the time it feels very raw and personal. I don’t ever want my posts to feel like a personal attack against him, because it is not.  I think it is important to share my personal struggles because so much of this quest for health is about my mental journey, as well as the physical. So with that, here is a link to my latest guest-blog post for I AM THAT GIRL about recognizing the strength in heartache and remembering to keep loving yourself through it all: Strength and Heartache

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