If you want results, go to the gym with a sadist.
“Awww, whatsa matter? You can do more reps than that.”
“I… hate… you…”
“Oh? What’s that you say? Five more pounds?”
He corrects my form, won’t let me cheat my way into lifting more than I’m capable of.
The burn, I feel it.
Yet, I feel stronger with him there. I am capable of more. I push myself harder.
But he’s still kind of a bastard sometimes.