Puddles of Sweat

I feel the bite of the steel as I thrust it forward, until
a limit is reached, the grunt that makes me the beast
rushes out all at once, the strain surpasses the pain
as once again I force myself to face my fears, this
is what it is to push past the couch, past the tears
of self recrimination, past the doubts, the midnight
snacking, past the stacking of regret.
I stand in the middle, the weight of iron is in my hands
the tension in my muscle, I become one with the effort
this is what little bit of life I can command, this is what
my credo respects, this is what repentance demands.
I will take the chance that nothing will come from
this extremity, this dance of stretching bands, this
repetitions of sets, the ante is up, time to bet.
I crouch in the corner, bottle of water in my grip,
a prayer of from the former slob, take another sip
from the wells of respiration, finding purpose in the
effort, feel the chalk on my skin, take all my anger
within, push away exhaustion, sloth, drop into
the zone, find your mindset, remember what they
should say: Nothing is accomplished without
a puddle of sweat.