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Tuesday, November 5, 2013

Bloody Smiles

Inspired to re post this blog by Games Athlete Chris Clyde.  Thank you Chris for talking freely about the impact this blog had on you.  At times blogs can be buried and forgotten....only to re surface by the skeletons of the Orchestra of Dark.  I salute you,  I salute the meaning of this blog,  I salute every skeleton who reads the song-full words from the caffeine stained violin keys. I salute the emotions we all share together to better ourselves in the sport of weightlifting and in life.  Salute. 

Our smiles, bloody from the bar hitting our chin, with shaded faces from the dead tree that hangs over our platform, and black eyes that seem to stay hidden from the hood that lays over our beat up thoughts.  We like to think we have cast them out, only to find that we are the ones who have been out casted.  A double edge sword makes my hand bleed from emotion and too much coffee.  Word choices I wish I could take back, but an overall point that I hope killed the 500 pound elephant.  Keep walking hooded man, stay invisible, get to the gym without being seen.  Train with rhythm, train with pride, train in the dark only to make the light feel warm on your skin.  Drink your coffee while the rush of life rushes down to your toes.  I understand you, you understand me, they understand mediocracy. They understand what they have been told to understand. We understand what our minds tell us to understand.  You know who they are, they come in all different shapes and sizes, they are whoever you see them as, they are different for everyone. They will never understand what we do and why we do it.  We live by a different set of rules, three white light rules, a program of rules that keeps us steady, strong, and balanced.  Speak loud to the ones who listen.  Be strong for the ones who fight with you, understand you, want to understand you, believe in the goal, the task at hand.  Change lives, while at the same time fully commiting to yourself.  I heard your speech at the end.  My chipped tooth and bloody mouth smiled with reassurance that at times this life does not offer.  Only we can make the world around us.  The world we are making is loving, strong, and powerful.

Keep walking, keep training, keep an eye open for the ones who want to join our shaded world.  Our jungle of iron, our beds of dreams, and our hearts full of anger and happiness.  I love this sport more than anything, but this sport is not what brings us together, it's the lifestyle we have created, not joined, but created.  The iron life, the bloody mouth way of teaching, living, learning, and achieving.  A bloody mouth means we have bitten the dust, hit the floor, hit the wall, but got the fuck up to smile about it.  White teeth shine through the blood only because we brush our teeth a lot, "why?", they ask, well actually they don't ask why because we don't exist to them.  Our teeth are white because we take care of ourselves.  We not only train hard, but brush hard.  We don't only brush hard but we eat breakfast hard.  We do everything hard, and because of this addiction, we even take the hard way to get to our goals.  We like hard, even if easy seems easier.  A hard life means tougher skin.  Your hard life means that I have something to learn from you, and vice versus.

We are not training, our skeletons are training.  Our deepest darkest cuts that slash across our chests, bleed through our shirts while we gasp for more air.  More is what we want, more pr's, more training, more life, more motivation, more family, more kids, more of everything.  If there is one thing that weightlifting has taught me, it's that the pain is good, pain is the best coach anyone could ever ask for.  Give me pain over pleasure, and my pleasure will be greater than any pleasure ever experienced. I see you under that hood, to me you are clear as day, even though to them you are a freak, a non existing outcast of a human life. Why are all our gyms tucked away from the population?  Why are our gyms off a small deserted road? We are shunned, not welcomed.  We train in the darkest of the gyms.  But here is what they don't understand, they are welcome any time.  We take the high road.  Our gyms are brighter than any Gold's Gym.  Our gyms are warmer than any 24 Hour Fitness.  Our dirt is gold, our bloody smiles are wide, or scarred hearts beat the hardest.  Our skeletons have become our friends, a bond of acceptance and understanding.  A brotherhood of freaks who live in the dark, let's keep training.

Freedom 2016

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