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Sunday, June 19, 2016

Jason, Are You there? (Sweat Bank Pt. 2)

Jason, are you there? Yes, I can hear you. Good, because I am back.  How long have I been alone? Little over 3 years Jason. I am sorry for the long wait Jason. Life has taken me through many mazes, obstacles and adventures that needed to be taken, some hard, some hurtful, but some so powerful and moving that nothing would change the turn in the tide.  I have carried on to carry you forward Jason. I can't seem to write like I used to, due to my comfort. I am no longer angry, but at peace. Maybe the peace will reflect through in my writing.  Maybe your destiny will change due to my ever growing maturity and self reflection in my life, for now our life is connected, and your life being in my mind can funnel emotions that were once not there back so long ago; for now we both have changed and we must both continue to grow.  As promised, I arranged for you to train with Shankle before your first meet.  He says he is looking forward to your first comp, so am I Jason. For the first is the foundation that holds steady as the road cracks and moss grows between your toes.  Your chalky hands will later turn rustic red, for blood cells break like old Cal Strength bars now left alone.  Creating champions is what this blog inspires to do. You and this blog starve for my creativity, wanting more like weight on the bar. I type tonight with you in mind, for only my closest of fans will understand who you are and what this blog truly means. This is not just bringing you back Jason, this is not just ending your story, this is reflecting on what created you, I, and the reader... this blog. These tears to this music. This coffee to sun sets behind green jungle windows.  As the Blockbuster sign glows blue in the night sky, its reflection off my Starbucks windows turns my face down back to the key board that gave me life, created you, and therefore who I am today.

I am typing as fast as I can, trying to capture the moment before it slips. If I even look up for a second it could vanish, leaving you alone once again and the Jon North of old dead and buried, stripped and forgotten, as new acts to circuses, in one day, out the other.  I have changed Jason, but I am proud of my changes. I do miss the old me, I think my fans do as well, but the old me is in the dirt where the old me was once born and new. I introduced myself to the world from dirt, and now I lay at rest amongst its cold weight that pushes down on my chest, heavy and unforgiving.  My sun is my son, and my breath is now his Jason.  I live for another human, not for myself. That changes a person. My chip gone because my chip has been healed and patched my the hands of an Angel. The kiss from lips that make my heart bleed. The eyes that turn my bar slams soft and easy. The weight going up doesn't go up as much, for much of my day is spent lifting him, my son, a better version of me. I am weakened in the knees, not from squats, but from my son. I body build because I can. I don't compete in Weightlifting anymore because I can't.  I hope you understand Jason, but enough about me, let's get back to you. Turn off the baseball game, put some clothes on, and let's meet Shankle down at your local CrossFit gym.

Shankle put out his hand long and steady as his eyes never looked at Jason, but at his hand to see and visualize Jason's hand shake that was about to take place. Once the shake was in motion, Donny then looked up for a brief second, making contact. The eyes of Shankle are a fascinating thing. They are deep, with hidden emotion that no one will ever understand nor know, maybe not even Donny.  The eyes that have seen, felt, been through, and experienced much of life and everything it can offer, good and bad.  This is why I respect Donny so much, his eyes.  My eyes run watery when I write, Shankle has a glassy layer that I have noticed since day one.  His eyes don't lie. Jason nodded his head in a fast manner, and then thanked Shankle for meeting him to train. Shankle then replied, "It's good to see young men getting into the sport of Weightlifting. I would like to see you push the single and see what we got today". Jason, this is pretty cool, right? Fuck ya, it is Jon, thank you for coming back for me and making me live again. I want to live Jon. I hope you never leave me again. Jason, I am glad I'm back as well, but I must end this blog at some point. I can't write your life 100% of the time. I would never live my life Jason, only yours. Yes I know Jon, but could you every once in a while visit me so I can slowly live out my life. Yes, Jason. I promise I will be back, but what happens if I die? Then you die. But wait, Jason, what if when I die, someone takes my place and continues to write your life. That would mean the world to me Jon, thank you. That means Jason, that you will never die.

Jason hit pr's across the board, as Shankle at times slowly sat up from his chair pulling up his jeans with no belt. Shankle would coach, and Jason would do. You're starting to see why it's fun to write characters. It's exactly what you want from an athlete, do, not think. I think now as a coach and business man, but when I was an athlete I did, and did it harder than anyone. So Jason, you do, and never stop being you, but then again you are me and I might just be living through you. Let's together win this first meet.

I must go now Jason, like I said in the first blog, I will be back, and so I will.  I write to you to write to myself for I am you, that even though things have changed and life is of a new world, your story through this blog will live forever.  Next time Jason... we compete, so get your sleep.