|A print that Liam made for me from a set of photos he shot at the end of last summer. I'm deadlifting 215 pounds.|
Our barbell is set up in the garage. When we finally moved back home after New Year, I was a mess and all I wanted to do was start baking bread and lifting again. I made it out a few times during a false spring in January, but it was April before it warmed up enough for me to get back to any kind of schedule. I don't think I can bear another winter off; luckily, I'm going back to university in September to finish my undergraduate degree and utilize the hell out of my gym privileges.
|55 pounds. Overhead press is a bitch.|
|The prophetic piece of drywall leaning against the wall in front of the cage.|
|fancy lifting shoes|
I have a long way to go (and if I have my way, if I get my hopes up, a very long way to go), but it was with a bit of shock that I realized, late last summer, that I'm pretty good at this. It fits me. I like it. It was with considerably more shock that I realized, yesterday, that at some point I must have rescinded my life-long official superpower wish--invisibility (a classic female)--for strength. I want to be strong. I want to be seen. (That picture that Liam took is my favorite photograph of me, ever.)
|plates and tea cup|
ETA: Naturally, I have a lifting crush. This is her.