Keith Wassung

  

I love lifting and always have. I can remember watching the 72 Olympics on tv and spending months lifting up the heavy footstool and coffee table in our living room (ok, I was only 8 years old)

I love the feel of chalk on my hands, the sound of plates being threaded onto the bar, the smell of sweat that has been shed in order to improve one's strength.

I love the feel of a loaded barbell locked over my head, the hard calluses on my hand from hours of deadlifting.

I love waking up at 5am on the morning following a hard leg workout, only to have my legs buckle as they hit the ground.

I love the incredible soreness that cleans, snatches and high pulls bring to the upper back.

I love writing in my training journal and looking back over the years at where I have been and where I am going. I knew at age 14 that it would be tough to find 17 other guys to play baseball when I was in my 30's. but the weights would always be there.

I love reading training stories from one who has "been there and done that" as opposed to one who has "studied this and is selling that"

I love walking being out in public and passing by a fellow lifter-we nod respectfully at one another-though we are strangers, we have paid the same price and shared the same experiences and that makes us instant brothers or sisters.

Nothing and I mean nothing, gets me more jacked up than reading about someone else hitting a PR-I dont care if I know the guy or not-I dont care if it was a bodyweight squat for ten reps, I LOVE it when people have the courage to venture into new territory and challenge themselves to succeed.

I love old black and white photos of lifters, I love looking at pictures of gyms of the past,I love overhead squats, overhead presses, full squats and barbell rows-just the type of movements that make most fitness trainees cringe.