A Prayer Before The Struggle

[ElTejon*]

((Continued from For the Kingdom, The Power And Glory Are Yours))

Walking into the gym always made Dan feel a little queasy. He didn't know why, since he had no problem with pumping iron to stay in shape, but there was something about the experience of entering a gym that made him a little nervous. Whatever the reason, he often got over it quickly just by looking down at his stomach, which up until last year always stuck out like a beer belly. Now, however, it only bulged out slightly under his T-shirt, though he was still determined to flatten it out, no matter what it took. His gut had even gotten him a few looks from the coach who'd overseen his first tryout for the wrestling team. The guy had undoubtedly mistaken him for being all flab and little muscle, but after benching 208, he'd quickly proven himself to be just as powerful as anyone else on the team.

After that, on the advice of his coaches he'd started placing a heavy emphasis on his cardio, which had initially proved to be a major hindrance to his progress on the wrestling team. Taking it upon himself to stay in shape, he'd started going on daily jogs after school, and started a new routine where he'd do at least half an hour on the treadmill before starting on the weights. Sure, it had taken him a while, but after a few months of puffing and gasping on the track, he'd eventually slimmed down enough to where he was able to run at a pretty steady pace for a couple of miles before having to stop and catch his breath. Training camp had been nothing short of hell on Earth, and he'd gotten the nickname "Fatso" for the way he'd always found himself struggling to keep up with the other team members, but in the long run it had helped place him in a better state of health than he'd even been in his entire life.

Now though, he had to gain more weight, which he considered to be pretty ironic -- or at least coincidental, he sometimes had trouble distinguishing the two. Seeing a few guys he'd talked to in the cafeteria, he waved to them and mustered a few general greetings before heading over to the bench. Slipping a few 45's onto the bar, he flexed his arms a bit before lying down on the bench. Muttering his customary prayer for a preservation of his safety, he reach out and grabbed hold of the bar. Without much effort, he pushed off and carefully began his reps.

After he finished the first set, he set the bar back into place and sat up, his breath a little heavy, but not nearly as much as it would get later on, when he started on the harder stuff. Taking a few looks around the weight room, he started thinking about what had gone on at the last GODspeed meeting. The first half he remembered as being fairly uneventful, but after the group prayer was over, he was delighted to find a few freshmen in with the rest of the crowd. He'd introduced himself to them, even managed to get a few of them to tell him their Myspace profile names. Speaking of which, he'd have to remember to check his e-mails for messages from Jackie or one of the other organizers when he got home.

[ElTejon*]

Stopping before the water fountain, he wiped the sweat from his brow before he leaned over to take a cool drink from the faucet. He winced a little at the water's taste: that was something he'd never enjoyed about Bayview, who for all their state-of-the-art facilities never seemed all that interested in keeping their water fountains working properly, which meant that sometimes the water came out a little warm or a little bitter, depending on how lucky you were. Sure, a few fountains in the school still pumped out some pretty good water, but most of the ones in the gym were, on their best days, churning out a bitter taste that ended your thirst but made you want to take a sip of mouthwash to clean the taste out of your mouth.

He'd had a good workout today, and he was ready to head home to brush up on his Spanish. The next exam was coming up this week, and he had to get ready while he still had the time. Whistling an off-key rendition of "Smoke on the Water", he slung his Adidas gym bag over his shoulders and walked out of the gym, his dirty black Puma sneakers leaving little specks of dirt in his wake.

((Dan Forrest continued elsewhere))