The gym is where I go to not only train but to find freedom within a free life. Weights are a symbol of power, strength, and freedom that drives me as well as everyone who takes part in such a ritual to succeed. Working out is not just something I do once in a blue moon - it's a lifestyle that becomes attached to me. Lifting weights focuses on my whole body and mind. It is addictive like a drug that hooks me in and makes quitting a hard thing to do. .
When I walk into my gym I feel like it's where I need to be. It makes me feel like I came here with a purpose, not an excuse. Walking through the doors, as I approach the huge building, feels as if I have already done what I needed to do because my mind knows what has to be done. The anxiety is bursting through my whole body as I hide it away to not seem like a mad man trapped in a mental institute. My mind urges the fact I have arrived. It pushes out the unforgiving sins and long lists of schedules that take a hold of my life. The feeling has rushed into my body, and now I am finally free within freedom. .
Walking into the locker room was where I prepared. I put my clothes on and reviewed my workout log before every hard struggle. It's time to warm-up, I say softly in my head. I approach the treadmill stretching and keeping control of my breathing. I warm-up just enough to get my blood pumping faster throughout my body. I feel myself getting more energized, then I stop and go start my workout. I go immediately to the squat rack as I already knew way before that today was legs day, or welcome to hell day. This is the day most people dread, the day most people give up and quit because they can't push pass the pain and torture of working out the legs. I for one embrace this torture and push away the pain because in the end pain is merely weakness leaving the body. As I load up the weight on the bar for my warm-up I think to myself heavy, heavy, heavy.
