Written by Felipe Beltran
Behind every weight lifted.
Every meal eaten.
There was a kid.
A kid who just wanted to fit in.
A kid who was hurt.
A kid filled with pain.
A kid with trauma.
A kid who is trying to escape.
It might be the fat kid from gym class.
It might be the skinny kid from the park.
It might be the shy kid from the lunch room.
Behind every weight lifted, there is a kid.
A kid who fell in love with the art of lifting weights.
Lifting weights is an art.
It is a way to escape from reality.
It numbs.
It heals.
It hurts,
But in a good way.
It is a beautiful type of pain.
When lifting those heavy sets you escape.
It is you and the weights.
It is you with the music
It is you defining the laws of gravity and going against them.
It is you going against your body’s limits.
It is you going against the limits of your mind.
It is you tearing your muscles apart set after set after set after set.
When you are lifting those heavy sets,
For a brief second, you escape the pain,
The trama,
The hate,
The anger,
The regret,
The depression,
The anxiety.
When you lift you escape from everything.
The thing is, it is only for a brief moment.
Only a couple seconds of escaping the realities of this world.
You want that escape.
You want to escape reality.
You want it over and over and over again
You chase it like a maniac.
You start to choose lifting over your friends,
Over your social life,
Over your hobbies,
Lifting becomes your identity
Lifting is like a drug.
It is a constant high that you chase.
It becomes an addiction.
But unlike other addictions, lifting won’t eat you alive.
The beauty of lifting is that you eat it alive, not the other way around.
More than a high,
More than a drug,
More than a form of escapism,
Lifting is an art.
