9:44 a.m. - 2004-01-15
It was a rush. A pain in the ass, but such a rush. I was pushing weight for the team. Becoming stronger, breaking records, and doing it for love of the team.
I miss that feeling. Cheering others on and being in the head of the pack on the victory run. In spirit anyway. I was never a runner. My coach made me do hurdles because I was the only one flexible enough to get over them.
There is nothing like the energy on bus heading to a meet. And if we won, the euphoric high was palpable. We were on top of world. Nothing else mattered. The songs are all true.
When I left highschool, and quit sports in college, I lost the motivation. It saddened me. I'd lost the sense of community and family. There was no team or sport to train for. That era died for me.
Going back into the gym last night to lift weights brought it all flooding back to me. It was more than endorphins. Something very dear and special to me came out to take a peek. It remembered. I started to glow inside. A fire had been lit.
My trainer asked me halfway though whether I had lifted weights before. She said I looked like one of those people. She could see it in my eyes. And I said yes, I was one of those people. Long long ago. I lifted for competition, ran against my will, swam for medals, and threw heavy objects to break records.
That was me.
Waiting to be reborn.