Saturday, February 25, 2012
That burning in my arms.
Don't want to lift another rep,
There so much more to go.
It's in your ARMS. Not your heart. Not your head. Not Command central.
Arms take orders from YOU.
I look in the mirror, I look myself in the EYES.
Where am I? Not here, not alone in the weight room, not sweating and pulling as hard as I can on this iron. Not alone in this hard work, not red faced in the late night.
I am shining, smiling, in the pink.
I am past the mirror, past the hazel gate guarding these dreams.
Walking, winning, worshiping, hand lifted.
I am there on the stage and the burning is far off on the edge of the audience.
The pain is peripheral, it's numbness is quiet under the white hot lights. Not gone, not yet a memory.
What is external is not permiating what is eternal and what is eternal is gracing my future.
That burning in my arms?
It only hurts on the outside.