verything was a blur. The sounds. The sight.
Everything. The only stimulus which broke through the suffocating wall of forced
concentration was his voice. "Push! C’mon man, push!"
Geez, I’m gonna drop this bar on my freaking face. I’m running out of air. If I take the energy to exhale and inhale again, I won’t have enough to complete the lift.
The voice got closer to my face, "You got it man! All you! All you!"
The bar inched up a few more inches and gravity seemed to get stronger by the millimeter. It felt like the harder I pushed, the more the bar was going to get buried in my face. The bar slowed its ascent again. It was coming down. I know it. My arms were giving. My arms were giving. My elbows.
"Peter! Push! Freaking push! Don’t you let it go down! Don’t you let it go! Don’t you dare! Tight! Tight, man, tight!" He hung his fingers just beneath the bar, "Right here. I’m right here. It can’t go down. Now, you push! I know you can. Easy weight! All you got! All you! Now!"
With the security of the spot, the bar felt a little lighter. It ascended a few more inches. This baby’s gonna get back up. It’s going back up.
"Yes. Yeah! A little more! Yeah, tight... tight! Up... up!"
One more shove. That’s all I needed was to get it passed this sticky point. I felt all my muscles twitching and straining from my chest, shoulders, triceps and forearms. It started to burn. This bar needed to get up there. I have to act now, or it’ll fall. Now. I was able to finally straighten my arms and the iron plates clanged together while hanging from the bar. From the blur-like slow motion surroundings, sight and sound returned. Everything sped back up. Everything was loud again, and bright.
He reached in and pulled the bar back, racking the weight, "Good set Peter. Good set."
"Thanx," I exhaled and inhaled.
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