You Like What You Like
Don't apologize. Stay true to yourself and press on.
“What do I really want? What did I come here for?”
These questions could have happened in front of my refrigerator — or pretty much anywhere on the webz — but I was asking myself these questions yesterday in the gym, as I waited out the time between 1RM attempts on my bench press.
Bench. I love it and I suck at it.
And I’m not very interested in getting much better at it. That’s the truth.
Proper technique for a bigger bench would require an arch that my stiff and “seasoned” lumbar spine has no interest in accomodating. And I’m okay with that. I’m happy doing what I do every week — and that includes benching and never getting great at it.
It’s Okay to Suck at Some Things
Some lifts you just make your peace with.
That’s me and the snatch. Me and the split jerk.
You work and refine and get coached some more and … you just still suck at them — and what’s significant is you just.don’t.care.
It doesn’t matter.
You realize one day that you don’t like those lifts and you don’t want to practice them that much and — SHOCKER — you’re not a professional athlete and you don’t have to do them if you don’t want to.
You’re a grown-up (even if you don’t feel much like one) and you can pick what you want to do.
You can select … and be okay with your choices. And that’s tremendously freeing so do it.
Decide what you really want and what you came for. Make no apology. It’s not necessary.
There is no handbook that says you have to do anything in this life.
Really. You get to decide everything for you. We just forget that.
Don’t Be a Cindy
Don’t be like this woman I enountered last week at a book meet-up.
There were just a few of us, relaxing at this lovely eatery with a view of the water, and the server was taking our drink orders.
I asked for a local pilsner (because IPAs are like handstand walks to me — I don’t like them and I don’t have to do them) and this blonde-haired, impeccably groomed older woman leaned forward and said, “I know it’s a stereotype but I’m going to have a Chardonnay.”
Her name was Cindy (of course her name was Cindy) and in that moment I felt sad for her, a grown woman apologizing in advance for knowing what she liked.
I smiled. “That’s okay,” I said, “You like what you like.”
I could see her visibly relax, like she was exhaling fully for the first time that week. Or that month. Maybe this year.
“That’s right,” she said and I could hear the surprise in her voice. “I do like what I like.”
Of course, Cindy would later turn out to have some racist views and I’d have to (verbally) box her ears during our book discussion but in that moment she was more than a stereotype. She was just someone trying to be who she was.
Strong by Lisbeth Darsh is a reader-supported publication. Paid subscribers bench more. (Not true. But they might be happier.)
I guess what I’m saying here is that whether it’s your drink at a restaurant or the lift you decide to do on a Saturday morning, figure out your choices and own them.
Make the decisions for you and no one else.
You like what you like.