Sweat drips off of him as he leans down to pick up another plate to put on the bar, one more set, one more all out effort. A duel between him and gravity, and he must not lose. He slides the weight onto the bar and gets under the rack. Eyes closed listening to the pounding of music in his headphones, blaring Metal how appropriate for pumping iron… He put himself in the zone. Wringing the bar, his focus so intense he can hear the beating of his heart over the music in that moment just before he unracks the weight. GRRRR-AAAGHHH, the bar breaks away from its safe nesting place on the rack, bending under the stress of the weight. Yet he does not bend, he does not waiver. NO, he is here to conquer the weight, there will be no submission. Not today, not this set, not at all. Submission is weakness and he is determined to annialate any and all weakness. He lowers the weight slowly, muscles trembling, yet he is in total control. He feels the all to familiar dip as he goes below parralel… Rock Bottom, the only way to squat! He pauses for a second, looking to the spot where the wall and ceiling meets he explodes from the bottom, drives upwards. Just as he passes parralel again the veins in his neck begin to bulge, and a guttural growl passes forcefully between his clenched teeth. He forces the arch in his back as the weight and gravity try to push him down harder with every moment. Refusing to wilt, to be defeated he pushes on enraged at the possibilty of failure, and spurned on by the idea of conquering the seemingly insurmountable. One last burst… One last violent thrust he reaches the top, he locks it out! A NEW PERSONAL RECORD! Another validation that his effort is paying off. The hint of a smile comes across his face as he thinks "I DID IT!" as he slowly steps back up to rack the weight. Exhausted he holds on to the bar in an effort to steady his legs. Gone now, everything spent. Walking is almost impossible, knees giving way at each step. He thinks to himself "Today has been a good day. One of my best!" He is an Iron Warrior, and this is his life.
Chris Tucker
The Iron Warrior
Reminds me of one I wrote a few years back... I used to be known as the WarriorPoet on some other boards.
A Warrior's Tale
As he prepares himself the warrior is experiencing disquiet in his abdomen, a chill running through his body
Each step toward the arena is closer to the source of his tension, he resolves to bring with him all his inner strength
Gathering intensity, he resolves to meet his task with full force
His feet hit the rubber mat, he is focussed on his purpose
Putting fear aside, he sets about his task
Using the fire he has inside, he feels the cold iron in his hands
Fighting with everything he has, dredging deep into his reserves he battles onward
Just when exhaustion threatens to overtake, he reaches deeper still
Rivers of perspiration soil his mantle, spittle runs down his chin, he searches for the beast inside him
When at last he can find no more strength, he bows to the overwhelming difficulty of his undertaking
Feeling drained of energy yet at the same time exhilarated, he leaves with his head held high
He knows a day will soon come when he will emerge completely victorious
But for now he takes comfort in his small triumph
Warrior Poet
The Beast
Lurking deep inside, an apparition from days gone by
A great source of power, a perilous source of aggression
Once needed for survival, now shunned and feared
The surging power of its will, replaced by modern conveniences
Many a warrior will heed it still, yearning for its overpowering influence
Not to be denied, the iron warrior will tame his inner Beast.
And with the power he has within, he will vanquish his limitations
WarriorPoet