Tuesday, January 26, 2010

Driving down the busy rode, through the big glass doors, weaving around machines. The rhythmic clink of metal against metal. The sound of my heartbeat pounding in my ears, switching back in forth. Weights dropping, veins pulsing, idols of mine passing by. In the place where the weak become strong, my heaven is in the gym.

3 comments:

bhsartmadisonv.blogspot.com said...

you mispelt road.

Ariana said...

You did a really good job.

Swanson said...

It is obvious through your writing that the gym is truly a special place for you.