Tonight's journey (or, working out under a Harvest Moon)

Tonight I could not clean.
My feet dragged into the garage
(sanctuary)
and I yearned for the high-voltage days
I'm sure I almost always had before
(younger).
But I love the feel of the bar in my hand
I know this space is opportunity.
Tonight I smashed my pinky
and clipped my tailbone
within the first three minutes.
Snatch finally came but light.
(Center. Focus.)

Tonight my Jerk got strong
quickly
(fast feet)
and I felt the "perfect moment"
(timing)
when my body was ready to handle the Jerk
(reality?)
and took it.
Tonight I felt extinguished after I made that heavy single
(Do it again!)
but went on to overhead squats anyway
(what I wanted from the start)
and those
were
amazing.
I
was
amazing.
(For me. Just.)

Tonight I hit the bag,
losing patience with my damaged shoulder,
and knew the power of focused force
and the warning of sloppy aim
(Life lessons, always).

Tonight I could not clean
and juggled permission to quit weightlifting
with the heroism of perseverance
(10,000 hours),
the threat of insanity
(performing the same motion),
and uncertainty
(identity, validity).

And I know that somewhere,
in all of this,
is who I am
as well as who I want to be
and who I wish I could be.
Finally, I walked out
(dark now, Harvest moon)
feeling tentatively better
(about myself)
knowing that tonight
was just that –
tonight.

Photo taken atop a mountain in Idaho this month