Yup, I'm talking about them damn dead lifts. I guess all I can do at this point is laugh at myself because it's just so freaking frustrating (and because I literally almost peed my pants tonight). I was totally on track to get 290 for 5. The first 4 went up ok, but during the 4th rep, my belt started to pinch a little too tight and I got that urge to pee. I though, "F it, I'll try for the 5th one, it's just one more. I can totally do it." Well, I got 1/2way up the 5th rep and knew if I pulled it the rest of the way up, I would have completely peed my pants. I'm not talking a little squeaker, I'm talking full blown 90-year-old uncontrollable peeing in your pants. But, I swear, if I had an extra pair of pants in my gym bag, I would have pulled that 5th rep and peed my pants with pride (and then changed, of course). Hell, I would have POOPED my pants if it meant I could get that 5th rep...but I'm not about to finish a workout with a load in my drawers. And I don't think the other members would appreciate me training in my undies. So, yeah, another week of unsuccessful dead lifts. If I was a positive thinker, I would focus on the fact that I got 4 reps, and the most I'd ever gotten with 290 was 3, so there's some progress. But I'm not.
Anyway, the rest of the workout went well, and I felt pretty good. But I tell you, dead lifts are starting to kill me mentally and physically, way more so than they ever used to. Guess it's these old bones and this batshit crazy mind of mine. Til next time, here's to an extra pair of pants and perhaps a set of Depends...
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