The music is pounding around the room, reverberating through to your very soul. You lean down grabbing a handful of chalk to work into your hands, mindful at all times of what you are about to do. Slowly you rise working the chalk between every finger, nook and cranny not allowing any single part of skin to be free of this powdery white substance. Breathing is long and deep as you steadily move across the room to your place of work with eyes showing only a glimpse of what is going on within your very being as you battle to control the demons that lurk within. You stop and stare at what is in front of you whilst still working the chalk meticulously into your hands. There before you is your foe, your very own demon. So cold and unemotional, sat there taunting and laughing at you. Even mocking you for what you are about to attempt. Yet approach you must but now it is just you and it. Your steely gaze transfixed up on it as you approach grasping it with all your might as you pull yourself down to meet your foe. Sit back, pull down, back flat and head up. You are now perfectly aligned to wreak all hell upon that which does not want to be moved and hell you unleash as you call upon every single ounce of flesh, bone and sinew to rip that which mocks you from its place of safety. When all is done and your foe is vanquished you look down and see that there is blood on the bar, there in between the knurling, your blood, blood you have given freely in your quest to tame all that the deadlift throws at you.
Steven. A. Barlow© 2010