Why We Keep Coming Back to the Barbell After 40

I felt the flesh rip off the palm of my hand.


DAMMIT!



CrossFit class yesterday was a good one for me.  Descending reps of deadlifts and pullups.


5-4-3-2-1 deadlifts at 225, 10-8-6-4-2 pull-ups.  


It was 8:40 am and it was already 38C.  Grip was something you remembered with nostalgia.  I put chalk on my palms and it slid off like pancake batter.


It’s been more than 2 months since I last touched a barbell with 2 wheels on it.  Hopefully muscle memory will kick in?


“Smooth is fast” echoed in my brain.  The first few rounds of each flowed like Mozart.  But I felt a familiar pinch on the last deadlift.   


You can’t run from the battle.  You have to bring the fight.  I jumped up for the last 2 pull-ups.


4:32.  Is that fast?  Slow?  No idea.  Dripping sweat from everywhere, blood dripping from the tear in my hand.  Good.


I washed away the chalk and evidence in the bathroom.  The cold water bit like a swarm of hornets.  As my heart rate dropped and breathing returned to normal, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.


Behind the gray hair and wrinkles?  


A single question.


"Again tomorrow?"


The man in the mirror nodded.



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