So, the actual anniversary was on Jun 9th, however, thanks to working 11 straight 11 hour days, I was a bit pooped. Plus, it came at the start of an off week, my last day of that stretch was today, so I figure before I start my reload week, I'd try to hammer this out. However, I'm sitting here, with a few other things on my mind, so this might turn into rambling, but don't worry, we're detouring through Mordor but we're coming right back to the Shire. June 9th 1998 I walked into a gym, the equipment was purple and there was pink neon on the wall. I was intimated, I was a colossal fatass but I was determined that I was going to be a wrestler. In order to do that, I had to become less of a fatass and stronger. The first time I ever benched, Brian the owner had to pull 70 pounds off my chest because I couldn't get it even once. Just straight down to my chest. I remember the first time I decided to attempt a plate on each side of the bench. Alex spotted me, he was a wrestler too. We had talked about wrestling before this, he was a wrestler. He said at that point he knew I could do it because he saw the amount of drive I had. In the first year I dropped over 100 pounds of bodyweight. I remember for the longest time I had my belt hung on the wall to remind me to never go back to that. Eventually I took it off the wall because I knew I wouldn't.
The gym has been my best friend, my therapist, my love, in some cases my worst enemy. Sometimes I've been too stupid to listen to my body and try working through injuries I shouldn't have. Hell, once I was so injured I couldn't walk for a few months, but as soon as I could get knee and ankle braces on, I walked in there with a cane, because goddamnit, I could train upper body again. I'm not sure exactly the point it became training, to some people it's working out. I have triggers that set me off, "I want to lose weight" "I don't want to get all muscley" "I don't want to get too big" "I just want to tone." It has become my passion. It's what's what makes me happy. It's like, I don't care what I do in life, job, love, sorrow... as long as I have the gym, I'll be okay.
The gym has introduced me to people that the word friend isn't strong enough, they truly are my brothers and sisters and they mean more to me than I can ever explain. Met one of the greatest people I've ever known thanks to the gym, unfortunately it's been almost a year since we lost him, but I like to think he'd be smiling knowing we still talk about him, think about him, and still miss him(even though he'd tell us to stop being pussies and go do squats).
It's funny, 20 years later and I'm still training with the same person who I started with all those years ago. He was way ahead of me then. Now, well... the student has become the teacher even though he swears we do the same weight and same reps. I think part of what I enjoy is the fact I get to torture him through new devious ways just to prove it's no where near the same reps and same weights.
So yeah, I'm going to wrap this up because I got pretty wordy. But it's been a great 20 years with plenty of ups and downs. Here's to another 20 or more.
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