Training is Life
The religious chalking of the hands,The tightening of the thick nylon straps,The headphones are placed and primed,Now time begins to lapse.His mind's eye recites what now must be completed,Claiming a bench, he sits, he waits, he breathes,He grasps the ice cold steel and tightens his grip,Lifting, striving for ten, he pushes, he believes.The clinking of metal plates,The sound of great efforts fill the room,Sweat and tears begin to flow,Working hard the muscles engage and begin to bloom.Set after set he keeps pushing forward,Digging deep into his soul for his much-needed strength,Tunnel-visioned now as he drives and drives,Working for that last rep, his arms raising, still at full length.An hour or more passes and the session draws to a close,Crunching his abs, he works as the pain stabs him like a knife,He knows it's doing him good, it's his mindfulness, it's his time,He will be back tomorrow for another round because after all, training is life.
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