Accountability can be helpful, but it’s what you do when nobody is watching that matters most.
For months, I’ve been working toward doing a 200 pound deadlift for 5 reps.
Several times, I have failed after 3 or 4.
Many times, I’ve recovered from those failures to lift the bar again for single lifts.
In this way, I’ve deadlifted 200 for 8 or 9 reps, but never for 5 without failures or resting between reps.
I haven’t even attempted this in over a month.
This week, I finally got it.
Not in CrossFit class.
Not with my coach.
In fact, it was a quiet hour in the gym. Few people were around and nobody was even paying attention to me — until I let out a jubilant scream as I completed my last lift.
Just me and the bar, and “Dream On” by Aerosmith playing in my ear buds on a nonstop loop as I built slow and steady over 9 set for 45 minutes.
85 > 125 > 145 > 155 > 165 > 175 > 185 > 195 > 200
Generally I crave the structure of class or working with a coach. I thrive in collaboration. Also, it helps my nervous system to feel the comfort of someone watching my technique and form or cheering me on.
But in many ways, it seemed fitting that I reached this milestone on my own.
Here’s the thing about the deadlift:
Even when you’re surrounded by people to coach and cheer you on, ultimately the deadlift is just you and the bar.
Nobody can lift it for you.
Nobody can help you lift it.
More than any other lift, the deadlift shows you what you’re capable of on your own
When you find your grounding.
When you embrace your pace.
When you give yourself the space you need.
Of course, it’s never really about the deadlifts or the numbers.
The biggest lesson of the deadlift is that it teaches you how to trust yourself.
When you are grounded in your stability, your capacity expands.
And when it all comes together, it’s pure joy.
You can see the magic on my Instagram, or below:
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