"The doors rattle open. You step inside and take stock... Everything is as it should be. You take a deep breath... The air is stale, sour, familiar. Like vinegar and piss. Fuck yeah, you’re home. Shit, you even got your own set of keys to the place. In here, there’s no time for bullshit. No place to put your feet up. It’s quiet--nothing but the sound of metal on metal. No one looks up as you step forward. There’s too much work to be done. You visualize how the next seventy minutes are gonna go down. Brutality, hostility, anger by the bucketful. Your pulse quickens. The blood starts boiling. It’s time to lay down the hammer… So the question I have is simple brothers. Do you feel this way each and every time you enter the gym? Does the stink of fear and trepidation mingled with excitement race through your blood? It does for me. I’m a kid in the candy store and everything’s free... ; "
I love these ads. So inspiring for me everytime I read one. Next week i'm going to shift training back to the AM because I just don't have the afternoon time to do it any longer, especially since I am going back to 6 days a week. This last rugby game I played suprisingly well but I did not run as hard as I could have; I was more fit then I expected to be.
Expectations are nothing though, this spring is matrix season, where games count and I will have one last shot at solidifying a legacy before I leave this college. You can always tell the hardest motherfucker on the rugby pitch, he is in every breakdown, he charges straight into his opponents head on, knuckles bloody, hitting the hardest, and he is the person they give the rock when it is time to drive, he stops the maul, he drives the scrum.
I will be that person and it is going to take some tree trunk legs and incredible pace. Monday begins Phase II of my 12 weeks of turmoil.