Novel & Cerita Unable To Weight Bare

he said casually, the sarcasm evident in his voice. I swallowed hard, staring at my feet. “I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, no rush. Take your time next time too. But while you’re here, you can start your warm-up, two hundred squats. The barbell is over there. Start now.” “Weighted squats? Two… Two hundred?” My head snapped up. Even when I had my wolf, I could barely do a hundred with weight without my legs wobbling like jelly, not to mention now.

CAL The barbell crashes back into the rack with enough force to make the entire frame shudder. Metal rings against metal, one-hundred-pound plates vibrate on either side. The sound echoes through the empty weight room before disappearing into the steady hum of fluorescent lights and industrial fans. I lie there for another breath, chest heaving, sweat running into my ears, forearms trembling from the last rep. Fifteen. Should've been eighteen. I sit up anyway. Failure is still failure.

After naman niya ay sumunod na ako. “Dito ka neng.” Lumapit ako at straight na tumayo, pinatanggal rin ang sapatos ko. “1.67 meters, height mo ineng. Tapos…” “Tanggalin mo muna bag mo.” Sinunod ko naman siya at ibinaba ang bag ko saka tumuntong doon sa isang platform. “50 kilograms. Hula ko’y underweight ka.” “Pa-pirma nalang po Ate Nurse.” Ani ni Axie.

She was an extraordinary woman who was not even 170cm tall but weighed about 300kg. A woman like this would not reach anyone’s beauty standards no matter where she was. If she was on Earth, it might be difficult for her to walk with her 300kg body. She could only stay in bed, eat, and wait for her death. However, Fabiola could still walk with no problems here. Her weight did not affect her speed at all. The people around who threw up after seeing Fabiola were all pressed to the ground by the Marche family’s guards. They were all eating their vomit.

Beneath the soap, there was the permanent scent of ozone and slag. "You're limping," Barzil noted. "I dropped a beam on it," Kaine said. He didn't look down. "Third month in the pits. Didn't have the credits for a healer." "You have credits now," Barzil said. "I keep the limp," Kaine replied. He met Barzil’s gaze. "It reminds me to check the structural integrity before I lift." Barzil nodded. A muscle in his jaw relaxed. This was what peace looked like. It wasn't clean. It was scarred, limping, and tired. But it was standing.

he grunted while he started messing with the steel latches on the side of the box. "That is because it is the Steinway digital backup and it is a total nightmare to move," I said with the coldest voice I could manage. "It weighs a hundred and twenty pounds and it is calibrated for the specific acoustics of the Denver venue." I kept talking even though I wanted to scream because I needed him to stop touching the latches before he opened them.

I can’t afford to lose myself in wishful thinking, not when I’ve worked so hard to piece myself back together. With my knee sleeves on, I secure my wrist wraps and belt, the familiar ritual grounding me in the present. I approach the bar, loaded with three 25 kilo plates and a collar on each side. It’s always a little nerve-wracking, but it isn’t weight I haven't touched more than a handful of times before. Amelia and Anna, ever the supportive friends, move to my sides, ready to spot me. Their presence is a familiar comfort, a silent reassurance that if I fail, they’re there to help.

he murmured. “And you’re pretty neat yourself,” she responded, “but what are you doing? And why are you doing it?” While she was speaking, she checked the machine’s weight loadings and her eyes widened. They were about 30 percent above her own, and she knew that — according to the machine’s instructions — her loadings were for a well-conditioned 175-pound man. At the same time she very lightly ran her fingertips over his heavily-muscled shoulders and upper arms. It was all she could do to keep from audibly sighing. “I’m trying to stay alive,” he responded in a flat tone of voice.