05:30 AM - 06:30 AM Strength - Push (Olympic & Power) w/Ben M.
07:00 AM - 08:00 AM Hybrid Training - Camilo
08:00 AM - 09:00 AM Women's Group - Tara
12:00 PM - 01:00 PM Strength/(Olympic)w/David G & Beginners w/Camilo
05:00 PM - 06:00 PM All Power w/Mike
05:00 PM - 06:00 PM Strength (Push-Olympic) w/Ben C.
05:00 PM - 06:00 PM Women's Group - Tara
05:30 PM - 06:30 PM Hybrid Training w/Bryan
06:00 PM - 07:00 PM Strength (Push-Olympic) w/Ben C.
All things being equal
by Tara Louise Getty
Tuesday March 13th 2012 10:41 AM
I don’t care what you weigh? Seriously. Your weight or fatness or thinness should have no bearing on your ability to do work. Period.
I don’t care if you’re tired. Your kids are brats or you’re having a bad hair day. I don’t care what kind of car you drive or about your sex life either.
I care that when you come to the gym, you are ready to work.
When push comes down to every last little shove in life, it is the work in the gym that makes all the crap in our lives easier to deal with.
I speak from experience.
I have often said (cheekily) that powerlifting saved my life. And while I say it with a wink, I mean it with a thud. It is my anger management, my social outlet and an exit from the private hell of insecurity and anxiety that I lived in for many, many years.
It is so cliché, but “under the bar,” my problems don’t mean shit. I am either strong enough to push, pull or squat the weight, or I am not…strong enough and I will need to work harder and better. Further, there is no limit to the weights I can move. I won’t tap out at a certain number because the heavier the weight becomes the more driven I am to do even more! It is in truth, the perfect metaphor for everything in life.
I was always a reluctant warrior. Fierce, but not fierce enough to act out. In some ways, powerlifting is my version of acting out and not playing nice with the “regular” kids in the playground. As I got older, it became increasingly difficult to pretend I was something that I was not. Namely, a slave to the Man of 9 to 5 work and overpriced high heels. So I quit.
Then I became me. At 40, I’m just now, sort of, figuring out this game of life. And by life I mean my place in this gym and how "that" correlates to the “real world.”
I guess I am fierce enough now. Because I act out all the time. I lift really heavy weights (for an old lady anyway). My hair is a constant evolving symptom of my insanity, I have a million pairs of workout shoes, a foul mouth and I snort when I laugh. And I DON”T CARE how much I weigh; that is until I realize that I have to lose 10 pounds in order to compete in the appropriate weight class. Then I do care and it sucks actually.
My Coach has said many profound things to me over the course of 4 years. Perhaps, the 2 most profound things are, “Getty, I don’t fucking care what your problem is (today) just lift the weights…or don’t.” And, “Getty, you are really bad at that. You should try practicing.”
Thanks very much.
All things being equal, this gym exists for a reason. And it is not hell.