'I was right; my suffering today is far from over.'
"Blerrgg..." It was the second ti I had vomited that day. And only a few hours had passed.
At that mont, I had just perford the heaviest deadlift I knew of in all of history. Of course, considering I ca from Earth and had no idea about this world's standards.
**
The deadlift sets started "light," with fifty-kilogram plates on each side. That was because Lesley was focused on teaching the correct posture.
"Feet shoulder-width apart, that's it! Now retract your scapula," she said as her hands pressed against my back, adjusting my posture. "Now, explode with force using your quadriceps and calves, lift your toes, and avoid overloading your lower back."
I'm sure this shouldn't be an easy exercise to learn on Earth. It would take a lot of hard work, years of intense training, body awareness, and good equipnt to avoid unwanted injuries. But there I was, executing a perfect deadlift as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
I have to acknowledge that the way the old Glenn treated his body was impeccable.
I'm sure my success wasn't just due to my high analytical and cognitive abilities. It was as if my body longed for this. It missed the effort, the routine, the stress.
Another thing I have to recognize is that from the mont my internal energy accelerated through my energy pathways, my logical reasoning beca even sharper. It was as if I had consud several liters of energy drinks, minus the side effects.
"Let's increase the weight," Lesley said, holding a one-hundred-kilogram plate in her hand as if it were a donut. "Alright, ten more reps."
The bar was a black tal, extrely rugged and sturdy. So far, there were two hundred kilograms on each side, and it didn't even bend.
"Count for ," Lesley ordered.
'I'm sure this is an anti-cheating asure. I've heard that personal trainers on Earth did the sa.'
"Nine... Paft... Ten... Paft..." The tallic sound hitting the robust floor echoed through the training field.
"Let's increase it!"
Lesley added another hundred kilograms to each side, totaling six hundred kilograms plus the bar. But I wasn't too worried; I had just done ten reps with four hundred kilograms with relative ease.
I positioned myself in front of the bar, adjusted my posture, took a deep breath into my diaphragm, gripped the bar with all my strength, and lifted.
"One... Two... Three..." "...Ten... PAFT..." The bar dropped from my hand, crashing onto the ground with maximum force. A slight tremor spread across the area.
My face was red, my vision darkened, and the veins in my head bulged as if they were about to explode. I wobbled slightly, nearly losing my balance, but managed to stay on my feet. My stomach churned with a nauseating sensation.
I collapsed onto the ground, one hand on my forehead, breathing heavily as I tried to regain my equilibrium. The sound of more plates being added to the bar triggered desperate curses in my thoughts.
'Damn it, Lesley, at this rate, you'll want to push the planet down with all this weight,' I muttered but didn't say out loud. Though I was sure she heard .
Thirty seconds after I was sprawled on the ground, Lesley kicked my foot, indicating it was ti to continue. Without complaining, I got up and took a deep breath. Now, eight hundred kilograms hung on the sides of the bar.
I moved slowly, took my place. I closed my eyes, visualizing the movent in my head, as if begging my body to follow. Inside , my innate cores overflowed with energy, surging voraciously through my pathways. I applied intent, further accelerating the flow.
Power coursed through my body, and I imdiately executed the movent.
With each repetition, my muscle fibers scread, my ligants creaked, my heart pounded at an insane rate, but I kept going.
"Ten... Paft... Blergggg..." And here we are again, ten reps followed by vomiting.
I had reached my limit.
After expelling the contents of my stomach, an overwhelming dizziness took over, the world spun, my vision darkened, and I collapsed onto the ground. Just in ti to avoid falling where I had just vomited.
**
"Impressive," Lesley judged, noting all of Glenn's results on a clipboard.
"Deadlift between five to six tis stronger than an average person."
In this case, an average person accustod to physical exertion would be able to lift between one hundred and twenty to one hundred and eighty kilograms.
"Next," Lesley shouted, kicking Glenn's feet, who remained sprawled on the ground.
**
We were leaving block two of the training center, heading toward block one. Three hours had passed since I had entered the deepest hell of weightlifting. Lesley had pushed to the limit in every exercise she proposed.
"Aren't we going to block three?" I asked, lethargic.
"Block three focuses on a training circuit aid at cardiovascular and muscular endurance. It will alternate days with weightlifting training," she explained briefly.
"Block four will focus on training your 'footstep', it has a delicate and intricate course designed to hone your agility."
"And block five is where you'll go every day after training. It consists of ditation platforms that will help you absorb everything you practiced," she concluded, walking briskly toward block one.
The block where various martial weapons were on display.
**
Moving at a slow pace, my condition could only be described as dire. A little over three hours had passed since we arrived at the training field, and I already felt like ground at.
And my at grinder was nad Lesley.
So far, I had:
Run at over one hundred and eighty kiloters per hour and covered thirty kiloters.
Followed by an eight-hundred-kilogram deadlift.
Nine hundred and fifty kilograms in the barbell squat, where, once again, my stomach refused to keep what little food I had left.
And finally, six hundred kilograms on the bench press.
We walked side by side. My face betrayed that my late-night antics had taken their toll.
The dark circles under my eyes had deepened, the fibers in my legs and arms twitched involuntarily. And worst of all, the side effects of sleep deprivation had started to manifest.
Lesley's words began to sound slow in my ears, and my concentration and reasoning declined severely.
Noticing my miserable state, Lesley pulled a small bottle from the side pocket of her pants.
"Here, drink this!" Lesley handed a bottle containing so kind of liquid.
Without question, I opened the cap and took a sip. It tasted like fruit juice. It was extrely cold, cooling my throat and esophagus as it reached my stomach.
A rejuvenating sensation spread through my body, numbing my fatigue and restoring my vitality.
"Wow!" I exclaid. "What is this? It's amazing," I asked, bringing the bottle to my lips again and taking another big gulp.
"Dragon piss," Lesley responded neutrally.
"WHEEEEEEEEEEWW.." I violently spat it out.
"WHAT!?!?"
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