Old School

It's been like this before.  For someone, somewhere.  It's not the first time someone has experienced pain, cuts, bruises, scrapes, bones snapping, ligaments tearing, tendons popping, or absolute exasperation.  It might be the first time you have, but in all of history, that's pretty insignificant.  The reason we are able to do these workouts at all is because our ancestors lived this life of running, jumping, pulling, digging, climbing, lifting over and over and sun-up to sun-down. 365 days a year or else they die from lack of food, shelter, warmth, or materials.

If it isn't a different body we are sporting then where is the slack coming from?  Our fragile little eggshell minds.  That's where.  Luckily, therein lies the opportunity.  To learn, through experience.  About ourselves, our limits, our shortcomings.  About our want to curl up far away from another rep, or another plate on the bar, or to just say fuckitall and grab a sixer of some lager because its Sunday and football is on.  Its in those places we either win or fail, where the choice is ours to make but we let society say otherwise for us.  "I" isn't in the equation when the server puts bread on the table for everyone to pass around and you smile and take your slice.  But on Monday when it's just you under a heavy set of iron-clad back squats I would be grumbling to myself "Where the fuck did everyone go?!"  They went home and didn't give a shit, most likely.  Discounting themselves from all the crazy hard-core fitness nuts that they see on ESPN2.

On your next 397th rep of 400 remember, it's not the first time in history someone's lost their cookies.  It's always been like this for somebody, somewhere, and probably is worse right now.  Burn yourself white-hot and sear the memory into your head.
Remember, and learn.