2 Minutes

Your hands rub your thighs up and down in a fast motion, not because they are sore, but because you...well you really don’t know. Your mind is tired but your body is in such shock from the training that it can’t help but to constantly move and twitch. You begin to rock back and forth as your head looks all around the gym like a little kid in an orchestra looking for his parents. You smile, not to anyone one person, not even to yourself, you just smile. Not an upward smile, but a sideways smile, a fake smile, a smile that lets you know that you are still ok and not dead from this battle called weightlifting. You watch your teammate attempt a big lift with your head slightly down and facing away, as you watch from the corner of your eyes. Watching straight on will infect you with the pain disease that man is going through.

In the 2 minutes of self-reflecting and heavy breathing you are intimidated,weak, scared,unsure, and nervous for what awaits you when coach tells you to lift. Your mind wonders off into the past like someone rewinding a video tape. You forget you are a weightlifter and that you have been doing the same two lifts for 4 years now, and looking at the same broken white wall just as long. You forget your life consists of chalk,bars,plates,and a big bearded man that never seems to forget that you are a weightlifter…damn. You have a feeling that a minute has gone by, and that you are half way to hell again. Your head drops back against the wall as your droopy eyes still face down toward your Ali feet. You start to count the sweat drops that fall from your face. You don’t wipe your face because you are just too tired, and honestly,you just don’t care anymore. You have surrendered to this lifestyle, you have surrendered to your own imprisonment.

Someone walks by you and says hi all perky and happy. You are suddenly woken from your exorcism of thoughts and silence. You reply with an over the top "hey how’s it going" with wide eyes and a large still fake smile. But once your paths have past you sink back into peace and tranquility. A world with no lifting, a 2 minute world of heaven and peace as you slide down snowy banks with penguins and polar bears. I wonder how my dad is doing. I wonder why Jake hasn’t called me back. I wonder what I am going write about in my blog today. Shit,180kg awaits me,just sitting there loaded and awaiting my arrival. I wish I could just sit here forever and never move. What if I fail and nobody likes me anymore. What if I never win Gold again or even get on the Podium again, then what? I am glad people don’t really know how insecure I am.....I feel insecure right now...so I think on this lift I will yell even louder and slam the bar much harder than usual. I should super glue this mask to my face so it won’t fall off, just in case Donny rushes me with a Shankle hug.

"Jon you’re up"! Fuck, my happy purple dinosaur has run away with another group of kids,and now I am left with a mean broomstick from the movie Fantasia. I can’t wait to get this lift over and return back to memories of wooden skate ramps and 50 cent pop. Let’s go! I am the Champ! Attitude fuckin Nation baby! I will smoke you 180, I will smoke you then slam you then cut your throat tell you bleed your red paint all over the fuckin platform. I am strong,I am fast, and I am fearless. I have the Shankle blood in me, and I will rip this bar like I am ripping the head off a lion. I will win more meets, make more teams, and piss more people off. I will chalk my hands like Russell crow feeling the dirt before battle. I am a cocky, in your face National Champion that will piss on every platform I lift on. Get out of my way rookies, the Nation is about to lift.

Thank you Nicoli Trefil for this blog topic

Love Liza 2012