Only took eight months.
The knee I bitched-up in February, kicking my coal shovel against petrified snow mounds, forced me to lighten up my squat workout until I had rehabbed (in my own unorthodox way). Today we got back to my standard opening set: ninety-five pounds for twenty, just below parallel. Perseverance furthers; it says so in the I Ching.
I usually try to go for a PR of some sort on my birthday. I’m not sure squats are it this year; there’s barely more than a month to beat the 235-pound triple I pulled off in ’07. Maybe deadlifts or that elusive 135-pound bench press. Or a freestyle handstand pushup.
Nel komerex, khesterex. Points to anyone who can tell me what language that is.