The session starts like every other one. I put the earbuds in, turn on a song that is about 3 minutes long and put myself on a rack to stretch.
I went from Dallas to Cleburne, stopped at a car dealership in Hurst and then drove home.
Ten years ago I could have gotten out of the car and just started lifting but I am not certain if my body will cooperate if I do that now.
Sometimes I am certain how it will respond and sometimes…less so.
I wander from the rack back towards the back intending to use a machine but the bench catches my eye.
Someone hasn’t racked their weights and I see a bar with 255 staring at me and I have wonder how many reps I can do.
I flip on some music and walk over.
I Don’t Want This Anymore
I stare at the bar for a moment and decide I don’t trust my form yet and take some plates off.
Don’t need a mirror to see the half smile on my face because I know this means I am getting older.
The point of lifting isn’t to impress anyone but myself and I know I can do a couple of reps, but I want more more than that.
And I recognize that injuries now take longer to heal than they once did so the plate reduction is a compromise.
I leave more on the bar than I had been doing but take enough off to feel confident about my form.
It was a smart move. I am short of 250 but close to the 225 I want to start throwing around and I am not worried about injury.
Five reps later I put the bar on the rack and pull out the phone because the buzzing is annoying. Someone wants to know about this but I am not interested so I ignore.
Paul is here but I am not in the mood so I push on.
Maybe I am learning to fly and that is why I mutter ‘I don’t want this’ or maybe it is something else.
I am throwing the weights around because it is a healthy way of taking the edge off and because it feels like I am the last line of defense.
The knight protector in my imagination but probably more of dive bar bodyguard that is protecting everyone else but has to watch his own back.
No one has done the seven or even three circles around me so I know what I have to do.
Not really complaining because I got a chunk of bad news followed by some very good stuff.
News that made me smile because it is the reminder of the good things that come when you work hard, stay focused and walk the damn line.
Give Me Two More
The best part of seeing the fruits of your labor is the motivation it provides to do a little bit more.
Sometimes it is a bitch getting to that point because you fight inertia and gravity is a bastard that doesn’t want to provide you with a free shot.
You have to earn it.
That is a conversation I have had quite a bit as of late and some of them have left me feeling exhausted because what I see with perfect clarity is misinterpreted and or misunderstood.
What I want is simple but I can’t make it happen on my own though I have tried and tried.
That is why ‘I don’t want it anymore’ and why I know changes will be made. I am done with some…things.
And that is yet another part of the joy of the journey because in the midst of the most difficult struggle I have ever faced there are some huge victories.
Got to be grateful and thankful for those. Got to keep smiling, keep moving and not worry about what I can’t do on my own or by myself.
Got to keep saying that, even if I am not always sure if I believe it.
Got to find a hand or something.