Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Let the Black Reaper Rise - 3rd tuesday





He slides out of the convertible Camaro.  It is bright red.  He would have said red like Lava rock, but looks around and knows the colors are as different as day and night.  He knows he shouldn’t leave the top down, that the sun will scorch the leather, but he does anyway.  He pushes the front seat forward; before he goes to the beach he will push the passenger side back as well.  He came alone, but, he hopes he won’t ride back alone.  She would come to the practice swim.  She would come and watch. He smiled.  She would.  He walks back to the trunk and uses the fob to pop it open.  There is his equipment.  His TYR tri bag, he has had it since his 3rd Tri, his helmet is behind the bag, and cycle shoes are there as well.  Doesn’t seem to matter what trunk of what car he opens it always has the same gear in the same order.  He isn’t mad at it, this is his life and it has been since 2008.  He is a triathlete. He can’t remember how many times he has done Pac Grove in the last 8 years, San Diego was awesome, Auburn was tough, BK was his day of glory as it was the halfway point to the tower.   Now here he is back in Kona.  T time to finished what he started back in 2013.  Then he could only swim and walk.  He looks at his helmet and a sad smile touches his face.  He couldn’t ride then.  He was to fat.  Was that really him?  The man who could do so little, he picks up the helmet with the Black Reaper painted on it.  He looks into the empty black almond eyes and the forever that is behind them.  He drops his helmet back into the trunk.  No that was not really him, it was a different man, a different life, if you dared calling it that.  That man was 460 lbs, he was weak in the mind, and his soul was blacker and darker than the Reapers Eyes.  That man was a prisoner in his own body.  He hung his head just for a second.  He hung it and his hair fell into his face and ticked his chin.  That wasn’t a life it was hell.  His hell built inside his own mind.  He shook his head.  He wasn’t back to think about that.  He was back to finish what he started and that was it.  He was her to ascend to the next level of the tower.  He was here to continue his rise.

He pulled his hair out of his face.  It was damp and a little greasy.  His hair always got so greasy and there was no point in washing it before swimming in the ocean.  He pulled it all behind his into a pony tail and banded it. Wouldn’t do him any good to have hair in his eyes as he swam in the ocean, no there were to many pretty things to see out there.  This was Kona after all not a kelp bed.  He slip off his shirt and his shorts and tossed them in the trunk.  He stood there in only his try shorts.  He thought nothing of this.  He chuckled he used to be very self-conscious about being in tri shorts and nothing else, it was a completely naturally thing.  He pulled out the spray 15 from his try bag and looked down at his feet.  He loved looking at his feet.  How many times a day did he do this now?  He didn’t know.  He spent a lot of time looking at his wiggling toes.  Making up for all the time when he looked down and all he saw was tummy.  He quickly dropped into his catchers squat and rested his arms on his thighs.  He took the 15 and sprayed each foot, then each leg up to this tri shorts.  He pull the shorts up on each leg as far as he could and sprayed again.  He took a moment to look at each one of his thighs.  Just like every other time he did, he smiled, he was amazed at the slabs of meat that were his legs.  They were almost perfect and looked as if they had been carved from stone.  He stood and sprayed his stomach and chest.  He looked at the rebirth tattoo on his chest as he sprayed.  He loved it.  He had been reborn.  His mind had to go through a complete reboot and he learned that life couldn’t be lived at a dinner table.  He sprayed his left arm from the kanji symbol for believe to his fingertips.  Then up the right arm from the tips of the finger to the sun that was etched on his right shoulder.  No need to get his back.  She had done that for him.  He giggled that had been fun.  He thought for a minute was this real?  This is real right?  I mean I have lost over 200 lbs.  I work out almost every day.  I swim, bike, and run for fun.  This is real and it freaks me out.  I dreamed I would have this body and I do.  I visualized it every night before sleep.  I wrote about it.  Then my body and mind realized being thin was ok.  Being healthy was good.  Life doesn’t happen at a dinner table.  It happens in the pool, on the bike, on the road.  Not on a couch with the TV on but out in the world with the ones you love.  He relished in.  He didn’t realize he was doing it but his were closed and he was flexing from head to toe.  He didn’t look like a part time accountant, writer, and speaker there he looked like an Adonis.    He had earned this.  He knew he had.  It all started and finished in the same place getting his mind and soul right.  Rising above all his petty worries, and the politics of corporate America.  Rising from the ashes of a shattered life.  He had believed it and therefore he achieved it. 

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