Sometimes You Just Have To Win

When I was a senior in high school, I was the bench press king of the weight lifting class.

In February, I put up 300 pounds to put myself well-ahead of the offensive guard I played beside's 275. He played baseball, so he was not a threat for the rest of the year. The old coach rang a bell when someone put up 300. It was a nice moment.

(Our football program was going through a down period at the time. That is why these weights are a little low. We also had a very anti-supplement coach. I did not learn how to lift intelligently until college. I did not learn about nutrition until after college. Also many seniors quit lifting after football season and concentrated on curls and the things curls can bring a horny mannish-boy.)

But then in April, out of nowhere, a big ol' boy from the holler who was in the other class put up 300. I failed at 315.

The last max out was during the exam period. I maxed 315 on my second try. But the big ol' boy still had a chance to beat me the next day.

His class (and himself) decided to play basketball instead of maxing. I won by default.

A future Division I track prospect who did not lose in high school let me know of my championship. He said something to me like "You didn't want to win like that."

We had won only three football games total in my junior and senior years. I choked at the regional track meet and failed to make states. I replied "Sometimes you just have to fucking win."

I was a wise eighteen-year old.