Nearly Halfway There

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Written by Anthony Nguyen
Published on Tuesday, 25 August 2009

What makes winners winners, is the fact that they want it more than any of the others. Given, there are a few exceptions where some are at the dis/advantage, the former is generally the case. When you find that something is difficult, ask yourself this question: Do I want this? If the answer is no, then either your heart or your body is in the wrong place. Reconsider and make changes until you are in the right place. If the answer is yes, then press on. This is why Bao and I sometimes yell “For the OAC!” at one another. Not that we dislike what we currently are doing, but rather, we use the object we want as an extra source of inspiration. Any feat is possible, if you truly want it.

Tonight, I wanted many pistols. Not the fiream; I’m talking about some quad crushing action. 6 pm finds me outside, on the deck. Here I start, looking to the light rain to soothe my beginnings.

I make with speed, pumping out pistols easily and efficiently. I find myself lost in thought, admiring the weather, and at other times, eyeballing my new 3 pound companion. I press on. Nearing 50, the rain gets heavy, and my journal on which I am keeping count begins to get soaked. I head to the front of my house for some decent cover. It takes me a bit to be settled in an area I feel comfortable.

I’m in the garage now, and I begin, again. After a good number, I find myself in a type of rhythm. The rain starts again as I near 80. I realize after 160 total reps, that I am still unsure of the origin of the name. Nonetheless I press on. At 100, the rain begins to settle down again, and I see the first few people ever since I’ve started. This is both discouraging and encouraging. While the rainy weather was something I preferred for it caused most people to retreat inside; it’s comforting to know that other people are at discomfort as well.

In attempt to repress my sadistic desires, I press on. 125, nearly halfway there. I pause and chuckle. “Nearly halfway there” has never been and likely never will be a motivating phrase. But why would I need a motivational line when I have just started? I tell myself, if I need anymore motivation aside from accomplishing these pistols, then I likely don’t deserve them. I pause and consider how long it has taken me, and begin estimating how long it will take. I restrain myself from completing this task, easily done, considering I had taken the precaution to isolate myself from any instruments for keeping time.

The rain has stopped for some time now, but it begins again as I reach 150, as if the skies were celebrating my small victory. A light rain covers the rest of my pistols. It must be time warping rain, as the rest of my pistols go down nicely, if you will. Every now and then I pause and shake out my legs, as they begin to feel strange, not a pain, but simply a confused sensation. I’ve developed a bounce in my step, sinking further down with each step. At one point during rest, I find that I accidentally walked into a kneeling position.

At 250, many distractions attack. I catch a whiff of mother’s fried rice. I notice a new sensation in my tendons; they feel as though they might explode. I push on, deciding to top it off at 300. And although the inspiration is strong, the pistols seem to be slower than ever. 1..2..3……4……5 1..2…..3…4……5, or 1..1..2..2..3..3.. and so on. I find that pistols usually seem endless, regardless of what reps or sets you decide to split them into. This doesn’t matter though, because anything is achievable given a strong enough want, and endless time, both of which I possess tonight.

Finally, I hit 300. Able to finally rest, I head inside, where luxury awaits me.

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