Saturday morning, Oct.27th, 2012.
8:05 a.m.
Universal Gym, Ajmer (India)
I was dressed in my white Umbro t-shirt and black Adidas shorts.
Barefeet.
Looking right into the mirror, I saw my face dabbed with sweat and energy trickling down in those sweat drops.
Sipping from my water bottle, I gauged, for one last time, what was loaded on my squat rack.
A 10 kilogram iron bar loaded with 140 kilograms, almost a little bent right in the middle.
I had seen videos of people getting crushed under heavy weights on YouTube.
I had also seen videos of people pulling this weight off with great strength.
But what my fate would be could not be buffered like any video. It was to be written in the next 5 minutes there and then.
I walked up to the rack.
Clutched the bar with all the grip I had. Looked down to adjust a 3 feet high bench I was supposed to sit down on and get up again. No momentum, just pure strength.
Looked at the mirror again placing my feet firmly.
And went under the bar to unload it from the rack.....
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When I was 16 years old, I was a guy with no strength, with no posture and with no confidence at all.
I was never into sports because I believed what made you successful in life was the few pages of the books that you read.
I had been beaten up and bullied in my school days. Specifically the one I remember was when one guy stuffed a wooden scale right in my mouth bruising my inner mouth linings.
I always looked at numbers as a grade. That was my definition of them.
Nobody took me in any sports. I just wasn't capable enough.
I garnered all my strength and proposed one girl I fell for the first time I saw her. Next day, I was just saved by a friend of mine getting bruised by her boyfriend.
I met weights for the first time when I was 17.
That morning I stepped into something that I never knew would change my lifestyle for the good.
I embraced weights. When everyone was embracing alcohol, cigarettes, drugs and girls, I fell in love with the sound of heavy clench in the weight room.
I never looked back.
When I was 18, my dad passed away from cancer.
I made a promise to myself, I will never leave my weights.
Two of my relationships went sour. Putting it a little brutally, they dumped me.
Once again, I was just left with my weights in the weight room.
The thing with the weights is that they never lie to you. You either can lift them with proper form or you cannot.
They lay their in silence on the rack till you have the strength to lift them.
What I have written above is not for your pity.
What I am saying is we all are the same.
We have lost things, we have loved and hated, we have lost our loved ones.
But is there something, which reminds you on a daily basis, that you are weak and right now you have the choice to become strong?
Is there anything that you do, which immediately makes you feel in immense control?
If not, it is time you find that. You will die otherwise.
For me, its my love for weights.
We fight almost everyday so that I walk out happy.(talk about selfless love!)
My friends have asked me," Why do you it everyday?", "How can you do it everyday?", "Are you a maniac?"
I tell them its my drug!
I can run away from it for a few days. I can never leave it!
They stare at me, while I walk away for one more rendezvous with the love of my life!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As I unracked the bar, my shoulders started crumbling.
I could feel my feet shivering.
140 kilograms.
And before I could think of any other thing, I heard my trainer shout "Squat, you motherfucker!"
I just looked up.
Looking at one single point on the wall, I lowered myself.
Rep 1.
Rep 2.
Rep 3.
Rep 4.
Rep 5.
Rep 6.
I racked the bar gasping for air.
Sweating profusely.
My heart pounding against my chest.
36 days back, I could not squat more than 50 kilograms.
Today, I conquered the most dreaded exercise.
Nobody patted my back.
My trainer left to assist someone else.
I sat there on a chair sipping some water.
I saw the rack.
It said nothing.
As the last person walked out of the gym, I was left with my weights, in the weight room.
Bharat.
8:05 a.m.
Universal Gym, Ajmer (India)
I was dressed in my white Umbro t-shirt and black Adidas shorts.
Barefeet.
Looking right into the mirror, I saw my face dabbed with sweat and energy trickling down in those sweat drops.
Sipping from my water bottle, I gauged, for one last time, what was loaded on my squat rack.
A 10 kilogram iron bar loaded with 140 kilograms, almost a little bent right in the middle.
I had seen videos of people getting crushed under heavy weights on YouTube.
I had also seen videos of people pulling this weight off with great strength.
But what my fate would be could not be buffered like any video. It was to be written in the next 5 minutes there and then.
I walked up to the rack.
Clutched the bar with all the grip I had. Looked down to adjust a 3 feet high bench I was supposed to sit down on and get up again. No momentum, just pure strength.
Looked at the mirror again placing my feet firmly.
And went under the bar to unload it from the rack.....
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
When I was 16 years old, I was a guy with no strength, with no posture and with no confidence at all.
I was never into sports because I believed what made you successful in life was the few pages of the books that you read.
I had been beaten up and bullied in my school days. Specifically the one I remember was when one guy stuffed a wooden scale right in my mouth bruising my inner mouth linings.
I always looked at numbers as a grade. That was my definition of them.
Nobody took me in any sports. I just wasn't capable enough.
I garnered all my strength and proposed one girl I fell for the first time I saw her. Next day, I was just saved by a friend of mine getting bruised by her boyfriend.
I met weights for the first time when I was 17.
That morning I stepped into something that I never knew would change my lifestyle for the good.
I embraced weights. When everyone was embracing alcohol, cigarettes, drugs and girls, I fell in love with the sound of heavy clench in the weight room.
I never looked back.
When I was 18, my dad passed away from cancer.
I made a promise to myself, I will never leave my weights.
Two of my relationships went sour. Putting it a little brutally, they dumped me.
Once again, I was just left with my weights in the weight room.
The thing with the weights is that they never lie to you. You either can lift them with proper form or you cannot.
They lay their in silence on the rack till you have the strength to lift them.
What I have written above is not for your pity.
What I am saying is we all are the same.
We have lost things, we have loved and hated, we have lost our loved ones.
But is there something, which reminds you on a daily basis, that you are weak and right now you have the choice to become strong?
Is there anything that you do, which immediately makes you feel in immense control?
If not, it is time you find that. You will die otherwise.
For me, its my love for weights.
We fight almost everyday so that I walk out happy.(talk about selfless love!)
My friends have asked me," Why do you it everyday?", "How can you do it everyday?", "Are you a maniac?"
I tell them its my drug!
I can run away from it for a few days. I can never leave it!
They stare at me, while I walk away for one more rendezvous with the love of my life!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As I unracked the bar, my shoulders started crumbling.
I could feel my feet shivering.
140 kilograms.
And before I could think of any other thing, I heard my trainer shout "Squat, you motherfucker!"
I just looked up.
Looking at one single point on the wall, I lowered myself.
Rep 1.
Rep 2.
Rep 3.
Rep 4.
Rep 5.
Rep 6.
I racked the bar gasping for air.
Sweating profusely.
My heart pounding against my chest.
36 days back, I could not squat more than 50 kilograms.
Today, I conquered the most dreaded exercise.
Nobody patted my back.
My trainer left to assist someone else.
I sat there on a chair sipping some water.
I saw the rack.
It said nothing.
As the last person walked out of the gym, I was left with my weights, in the weight room.
Bharat.
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