The PR Streak Must End

Tonight was max effort back squat night, and I had a bad, bad feeling about it.

Not to sound overly dramatic or anything – OK, to sound completely overly dramatic about it – I always have a lingering sense of doom when anything involving squatting comes around. My squat form is abysmal. Actually, I don’t think abysmal is a strong enough word. Lots worse than abysmal.

But it is what it is. So I squatted. I had a bad day anyway. I ate really bad, made the mistake of weighing myself, and just generally felt icky. Squatting is not going to make me feel better. I guarantee it.

75# x 5
95# x 5
125# x 1
145# x 1 (Fail)
135# x 1
140# x 1
145# x 1
150# x 1

The first try with 145# just nailed me to the floor. I had to dump it, which didn’t lighten my mood any. Screw you, back squats.

But I calmed down, lowered the weight, and worked my way back up and over it. 150# was ugly. Slap yo mama ugly. Enough of that. It’s only 5# below my PR, so I’ll take that.


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