March 09, 2017

I love to lift…an ode to the contour of courageousness

 

Lifting is my therapy, my holy ground for active meditation.  No matter what my life’s circumstances, I know without question, that this sacred time to myself will make everything brighter.  This is the place where I can connect with my inner self on a deeper level.  This is when I can look a challenge in the face, forcefully exhale its exacerbations and inhale triumphant.


Lifting is how I can function and cope with the stresses of everyday life; it is my healing.  Lifting gave me a new life.  It helped me develop the internal and external strength to rise from harsh fallings.  Lifting gave me life that helps to lead others experience the same empowering abundances it granted me.  What I used to call a struggle is now a warm-up by comparison.  My skin is thicker, my dare, bigger.  My focus is lazer-like, piercing.  My grip is firm enough to hold on no matter the weight, and my reach extends further than just myself.  Lifting has become a way of life!


I remember being an overweight teenager.  Reclusive and ashamed of myself, I would spend the majority of my time alone.  Trying to camouflage myself behind my wardrobe was difficult enough, but passing by mirrors was another level.  I was truly afraid to face the anguish that was deep behind my eyes.  I was so exhausted from this inner battle that the thought of energy towards a solution was impossible.  It took one monumental day to change my course forever-it took one decision.  I took it upon myself to educate my way out of this turmoil.  I read everything in the field of fitness I could get my hands on.  I started getting comfortable being uncomfortable.  I made a purpose to get up before anyone and MOVE. I lifted. I ran. I literally worked my ass off!! Lifting confirmed that I was worth it, that I could be the person I admired from a far.  I started creating a new inner dialogue that was encouraging rather than self-jeopardizing.  My entire life transformed the moment I touched the iron. I’m not afraid to look back because I’m strong now, and moving forward.


I remember, vividly, the morning I saw myself in a new light in that dreaded mirror.  Time became silent and still.  In that reflection I was meeting the real Ty again; the one born innocently in to this world.  Streams of warm warranted sweat beading down my face and body, exposing a never seen contour of courageousness. It had only taken 17 years.  The ways in which we cope with the stresses of our environment can literally shape our beings.

I am beyond grateful for the support my family gave me, around this growing up. But most of all, to the iron…to Lifting.


Coach Ty

WE THE STRONG

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