In the bottom of a clean, quads burning, you’ll want to quit. Pulling deadlifts, the skin on your hands tearing, you’ll want to quit. Your body protesting, crying for relief as your veins pump waste, you’ll want to quit.

Your mind will scream from its high perch, commanding you to stop, lest you break, crash, and burn. Feeling the outer limits of your capabilities, it will hit every physical and emotional alarm in the arsenal, rocketing pain, misery, and doubt into your thoughts.

It would be easy to give in to the hot rush of your brain’s emergency brake. To drop the bar. To get off the rings. To let your knees collapse as panic breaths heave through your chest.


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