Voices in my Head

 Two weeks ago, I hit a big goal for myself and finally benched 135 lbs. Being able to put a plate on the bar was something I had seen other people in my training crew do for so long, and I wanted to do that too, probably for an equal sense of belonging and pride. Going into the next week with confidence, I loaded the bar with the same plate, and it didn't move. Cue the negative self talk. But, this time, instead of hearing my own criticizing voice, I heard the familiar voices of the guys I train with each week: Rob, Mike, Tom, Austin, and Tim. 

Rob, whenever I start to list all of the reasons I can't bench, squat, or deadlift a certain weight, you stop me mid-spiral to say, "of course you can," as if it's absurd to have anything but confidence in my abilities. Considering that I used to put my wrist wraps on backwards, your unwavering belief that I belong in the gym and alongside you in a workout is pretty remarkable. You hold up the mirror that allows me to see the best in myself, and everyone deserves that.

Mike, you are the first person to notice the smallest improvements in any of my lifts, and you highlight them at every workout. Whether it's staying just a little tighter all the way through a bench, bracing before a deadlift, or controlling my knee in a squat, you make sure it doesn't go unnoticed. When I hesitate to ask for help setting something up or feel like I might be in the way, you tell me to take up the space. You remind me that my workout is just as important as the workout of anyone else in the gym, even when it looks a little different.

Tom, I've lost count of how many times you've given me a spot, a handoff, or loaded plates for me. More importantly, though, the feedback you give me for how to improve a lift is so specific that it makes me feel strong even when I fail a set. You point out the things that are changeable when my immediate response is that I'm just not strong enough. Even when I don't change them right away, or for a very long time, you just give me the advice again as if it's the first time your're sharing it, and that gets me out of my own way

Austin, I remember a while back when we both got to the gym before everyone else and you started to set up beside me. You must've seen the confused look on my face, because you said, "What? We're benching together. Let's fucking go." I immediately thought of all the loading and unloading of plates you would have to do, moving my footplates back and forth, and grabbing a third person to give you a spot each time you wanted to lift, and I thought about how that can't be worth it when there are other benches open. But, you just saw it as another day of benching with someone you knew, and I've never felt so included.

Tim, even though we tend to come and go from the gym at different times, the consistent fist bump and head nod from you as we cross paths has become such a comfort to me over the past few years. It's either a quick acknowledgement how much work we are about to start, or a mutual relief at what we both accomplished knowing that we have the same trainer. Our mutual love of a  heavy single and hatred for anything above three reps always makes me smile. It's very validating to have that in common with someone who lifts ten times the weight that I do.

All this is to say, you guys are the best around, and I'm incredibly grateful that when my inner critic gets too loud, your voices help me fight back. Thank you!