f=ma reminds me of a recent christian-gilmour-thidoedoo story
I first deadlifted 500 pounds on Christmas Eve of my 17th year. It happened in my bedroom of my parent's house.
My family and relatives were downstairs celebrating the holidays, but I preferred iron to the company of people. With nothing but the murmur of voices coming from downstairs to psyche me up, I pulled 500. I was super proud of myself, so I left the loaded bar on the floor as a testament to my accomplishment.
Moments later, one of my uncles came up to my room to fetch me to open presents. He saw the barbell on the floor and asked how heavy it was. I proudly told him but he didn't even raise an eyebrow.
"Can I try it?" he said.
Mind you this was a 50-year-old man that I didn't exactly figure to be a world-class athlete. "Sure," I said, "but don't you want to warm-up first?"
"Nah, I'll just try it like that," he answered.
And without any warm-up, knowledge of technique, or effort (or so it seemed), he picked up the barbell. He held it up and said, "So that's what you kids do to have fun?" He put it down gently and went back downstairs.
HAHAHAHAHAAHAAA