I have a couple weeks lag time before my new job starts, and I am enjoying the freedom of it immensely. One of my regular activities is going to the gym, trying to replace the parts of me that withered in Nepal . I just got back from there, where I followed my normal scheme of rowing machine, weights, then the fancy German circuit machines that increase the resistance on the reverse side of every exercise. So high-tech!
I use the three weight benches on the side with the windows. Today I was on the far right, with a guy who looked like Rod Corddry’s beefy younger brother (but with more Celtic tattoos) on my left. The benches are kinda close together, so we tacitly agreed to alternate our exercises so we wouldn’t whack each other’s hands, which would undoubtedly result in broken fingers and much grunting.
I had just started my turn when it happened. Over the radio a new song filled the room. Risin’ up,back on the street, did my time, took my chances. My ears perked up. Went the distance now I’m back on my feet, just a man and his will to survive. One of the bizarre things about gyms the world over is how seriously everyone takes themselves, but I could not keep the smile from my face.
So many times it happens too fast, you trade your passion for glory I was starting to lose it, and could no longer lift those suddenly humorous things I was holding. It’s not every day you find yourself in a Rocky montage.
Don’t lose your grip on the dreams of the past, you must fight just to keep them aliiiive.
Mr. Corddry was looking at me to see what the deal was. I think I was shaking a little…so he probably just assumed I was tired.
But when the chorus ripped out I couldn’t take any more, and had to sit down and just enjoy the moment. Sing it with me now
It’s the eye of the tiger, it’s the thrill of the fight, risin’ up to the challenge of our rival, and the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night, and he’s watchin’ us all with the eeeeeeye…of the tiger.
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