I'm not normally one to post about my achievements at the gym, and there's a pretty simple reason why.  No one cares.  And I don't want to seem braggy.  But, for some reason, something came over me yesterday that made me break my rule.

We were doing some CrossFit benchmark testing after completing a multiple week cycle of working on deadlifts.  The testing is to see how much strength you've gained over the course of the cycle.

I'll spare you the details, but to make a long story short, I was able to set a new personal record for my deadlift.  Before my attempt, I had one of the coaches start recording on my phone so that I could analyze the video to see how I might improve my technique.  I also knew that the video would give me added incentive not to fail.

Surprisingly, I was successful with a very heavy weight for me that shattered by old record.  I was absolutely pumped up.  I couldn't believe it.  I was drunk with a cocktail of adrenaline and joy.  In my stupor, I decided to post the video on my Facebook page.

Not long after I posted it, the likes and comments started appearing, which I usually love.  But with every notification, I started to grow more and more embarrassed.  I didn't post the video for recognition, even though it definitely appeared that way.  I posted it more for posterity.

As a rapidly aging athlete, I know that my days of personal records are fading.  I wanted to remember that feeling of crushing my old best.  I wanted to be able to appreciate what I was able to do at my age.

Someday, sooner than I'd like, I won't be able to get anywhere near the weight I lifted yesterday.  But I guess I'll always be able to show my kids (and eventually grandkids) that there was a day I could lift 355 pounds.  Yesterday was that day.

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