The battle of the deadlift

[beowulf]

Cold and dark, the steel lay waiting on the ground. Forged from metals that long ago were hammered into weapons of war. Today its existence had a meaning and a new responsibility. Its singular purpose now was to remain fixed; its mass had become its value as it intimidated all who passed by shaking their heads in disbelief. Its job would be done today, it would remain home, locked to the ground, and none would shift it from its throne. Void of a soul or conscience it sat content upon the ground. During its days many had walked away in frustration, failing to rend the steel from its earthly bonds. But those were not who it remembered best. If steel could smile it would grin as it recalled those who had fallen while struggling with the ancient mass. Some might coax a shiver from the hard steel, fewer still would move it fractions of an inch from the floor. In the end they would all fall to their knees, beads of sweat dripping from their brows bathing the cold metal. There were those who would scream, those would lose consciousness, and those who would vomit as the overexertion played havoc with their frail bodies. While these end results were satisfying, it was most pleased when it remained simply where it was, a stagnant force amongst in the presence giants.

One day, a loud clap was heard, followed by a puff of white dust. From the cloud emerged a huge man, a mover the likes of which the steel had not encountered. Grunts and nods of approval were doled out as he approached the aged old metal. The area quieted as all eyes were upon this one formidable being, sizing him up, whispering their predictions. He stood for many long moments over the cold forged bar, gazing upon the stack of solid plates and the steel that connected them. He had stood here before, he had many times attempted to the feat, but he was never successful. Today was different, today he was stronger, today he was ready, and today he would not lose.

Deliberately, he adjusted the heavy leather belt which was wrapped tightly about his waist. Old and worn the belt had aided him more times than he could count. Like a second skin it fit to his back and waist, reinforcing the core of his being. He then coated his hands with a thick layer of white chalk, the dust from the chalk filling the air like plumes of smoke. Placing his feet at the bar he breathed deeply, closing his eyes as if lost in prayer. The lifeless steel smiled inwardly, stoically confident in the outcome, it knew the man would fail.

Finally his eyes opened, dark and resolute as he stared off into space envisioning the next thirty seconds – failure was not an option. Bending at his knees he squatted down and wrapped his chalk covered hands around the bar, the cold metal pleasantly greeted his grip, like an old friend who would smile to your face then stab you in the back. Once his grip was firmly set and his feet were securely planted he sucked in a long, deep breath – knowing it might be his last until the attempt was finished. Without so much as a warning his legs compress – then exploded. They shot upwards as his hands tensed around the bar. The mass of steel remained still at first not moving an inch. But as muscle and sinew stretched the many plates began to tremmble. His legs shook as veins strained against skin surging with life. A grunt escaped his lips as the muscles in his neck corded. The lack of oxygen began to turn his face red, but he continued to fight. The quivering plates soon gave way and slowly began to move upwards. His arms flexed hard, swelling with blood, as his legs continued to push against the ground. Finally his back, armored in the ancient belt, straightened and he stood upright gripping the bar with reddened fingers. He stood with the immense weight for a moment letting out a terrible cry then released the bar. It crashed to earth ringing as the numerous plates slapped together. It landed with such force that the weight bounced slightly before it finally came to a rest.

The room exploded in cheers as others rushed to him to congratulate him. Some hugged him; others pounded him hard on his back as he slumped over in exhaustion. They gathered round him discussing the impressive feet, many claiming that they could have done the same. When the excitement had finally died down, and the crowd had dispersed he sat alone on the floor with the weight. Reluctantly he stood smiling to himself with pride. As he walked away the leaving the steel alone in the darkness a thought grew in the depths of the cold metal being, instead of feeling defeat the steel knew the inevitable truth: one might conquer it but it would always come back, heavier and more resolute.

The man turned back to look upon the weight one last time, silently knowing this truth, grinning as he thought “and I will always come back stronger..”

[eggy_wont_grow]

amazing post. now i feel like deadlifting!

got d'lifts?

EDIT: post this in the pl section as well, im sure they'd appreciate it

[sculli]

What's that some Fred Hatfield poetry?

[beowulf]

Glad you guys liked it!

[corpsedub]

im veclemnt..talk amongst yourselves..

[Kroms_laugh]

****ing sweet, bro.

Thanks for the motivation.

[ballbags1]

great post...but I'm too lazy to be that descriptive about lifting

[Torquer]

where's colin

[beowulf]

Colin?

[Torquer]

BAM

[ballbags1]

lmao

[tibbatts2000]

Originally Posted by corpsedub

im veclemnt..talk amongst yourselves..

Aren't you going to give us a topic?

[Gollum]

Beowulf that was awesome.

Thank you for sharing that.

[binky]

Awesome post, it was very motivational and written by a fellow New Jerseyan.

Doesn't hurt that I absolutely love deadlifting.

[corpsedub]

Originally Posted by tibbatts2000

Aren't you going to give us a topic?

the topic is...choad

[beowulf]

Choad....or SPAB?

[1stindoor]

Especially nice considering I just hit a new best this morning doing DL. Posted the thread and pics at the over 35 section. Titled the thread, "A pictures worth 475 lbs."

[beowulf]

That's awesome 1stin, congratualtions. 475 is huge. My heaviest was 455 but it wasn't from the floor. Deadlifting is with out a doubt my favorite movement!

[1stindoor]

Originally Posted by beowulf

That's awesome 1stin, congratualtions. 475 is huge. My heaviest was 455 but it wasn't from the floor. Deadlifting is with out a doubt my favorite movement!

Thanks, 455 was my sticking point for nearly a year. I've said numerous times that 475 mocked me. Last week I pulled it off the floor for the first time ever...couldn't complete the lift, missed by a couple of inches, but it was a huge victory for me anyways. Today, I knew I could do it.

[fauche65]

Originally Posted by beowulf

Deadlifting is with out a doubt my favorite movement!

My favourite movement is usually done in a porcelain bowl.