I don’t know if you’ve ever been in love, but I’m cynical about it. On one hand, love is a driving factor for a lot of the population. Find somebody to love, all we need is love, do what you love, love yourself, love conquers all. First let’s delve into what happens when you fall in love with someone or something.
You get that first taste of something new, something different, something that sparks that fire of existence within. When it’s a person, you feel elated in their presence, colors seem brighter, you laugh a little easier, they can do no wrong and you want to spend every moment you can with them. You spend a lot of time learning about them, what they like, what their favorite style of coffee and eggs are, trying to love them in as many ways as possible. When it’s an activity, let’s say Weightlifting, you do the same thing, minus the coffee and eggs. You want to know as much as possible about it, do it as often as possible, try to excel at it. The PRs are continually rolling in and you are addicted to the feeling of getting stronger. This is the point in time your friends and relatives think you’re insane or it’s just a phase. This is what I refer to as the honeymoon stage, it typically lasts around 2 years, but often less. When that stage ends, and it does end, that’s when the real work begins.
I’m sure you’ve come across them, the couples that have left that honeymoon stage. They don’t hold hands anymore. They start to get annoyed at small things like which way the toilet paper faces (and yes, there is a correct direction). That cute thing they used to do now gets on your nerves so fast you can barely keep yourself from kicking them down a flight of stairs. Arguments start to bleed through the cracks of conversations. While you can’t really argue with a barbell, the frustration still sets in. You’ve learned a lot, so much you can explain it well to people and get annoyed when they still ask you how much you bench. You’ve gotten good at it, good enough to decently compete. At this point, you’ve done it so much it becomes second nature, bordering automatic. You have a routine, and a small part of you thinks it’s becoming monotonous. It starts to get more difficult to PR and it’s probable you’ve acquired some nagging injuries, or reoccurring problems that make Weightlifting a little less enjoyable. I like to refer to this stage as the drop off or burnout.
After the drop off, it can go a variety of ways. Some decide to have children to add a new dynamic to the relationship, some visit that store that has no windows with all the weird rubber toys to spice things up. This is the point where people start cheating or getting distant, they just want something different, or they feel like other people have it better. This is where things really are routine, there isn’t a lot of variation or excitement. Weightlifting has become an uphill climb with a backpack loaded with a 100kg boulder. You still show up though, but you haven’t hit a PR in a year, and you don’t see the next one in sight. You may have experienced a setback because you neglected something or got careless and ended up injured. You wonder if it’s still worth it, if that’s as far as you can go with it. You’re putting in a lot of work for little results, and the thought of moving on to something else starts to occur over and over. Somewhere deep down you don’t feel the same way you used to, but you’ve invested so much time, so a decision has to be made to keep going or throw in the towel. Showing up isn’t the hard part anymore, wanting to stay is. I refer to this stage as the grind.
The grind is the hardest thing to endure, because it isn’t glamorous. This is where that choice to stay is solidified. You have to start choosing to love that person, in spite of their flaws and annoying habits. You put in effort, and learn not to expect reciprocation, you love them anyway. It’s no different with Weightlifting. You get to a point where you choose to do it, whether you get a PR or not, because it matters to you more than a number on the bar, and you love it. What people don’t realize is that love is an action, not a feeling. If you depend on other people to hype you up, what happens when they aren’t there. If a PR is all that keeps you going, what happens when you’re older and you’ve reached or passed the limits of your potential. If you never got a PR again, would you still do it? Sometimes priorities change, and you leave, and you can come back, but don’t expect it to be the same, love rarely happens the same way twice. So what do I really think about love…falling in love isn’t always a choice, staying in love is.