Under the Bar

You get stronger by putting more weight on the bar.

Lifting weights has taught me a lot about writing, and life in general. (Yes, I’m a garden-variety jock).

You get stronger by putting more weight on the bar, not by doing the same movement more quickly or for more repetitions. Those things can be useful, but only to a limited extent. Focussing on them is likely just procrastination on your part—a way to avoid moving heavier objects.

Likewise, you become tougher by taking on responsibility. Just as in the weight room, too much of it can break you. You must tread with caution. Start with yourself, and work outwards from there. Obsessing over volume or speed probably means you’re avoiding your duty.

There’s always some fear when you stand under the bar. You could get hurt. Or worse, you could embarrass yourself in front of fellow yuppies. But you make the lift, because to accomplish beautiful things you must overcome the pitiful little voice in your head that whispers “You will fail, you will not be loved”.

The bar is moving—you are stronger than you thought. The little voice lied.