“Don’t push yourself too hard,” Michael says, staring down at me from his lofty height, the jerk, while I stand here, clutching at the barbell, my hands slippery in my training gloves, burning with heat. It’s not the only part of me burning, either.
My face rivals that of a boiled lobster, and I’ve got sweat dripping from places I didn’t know could sweat. All of my muscles in my body are quivering right now, just holding up the barbell across my shoulders, my feet planted underneath my hips in the stance that’s most comfortable for me.
The truth of the matter is, I don’t know if I can do one more squat at this weight. I don’t think I can, my brain keeps telling me I can’t, but I really want to give it a try.
I’m two weeks into my program, seeing Michael more often than not (honestly, I
