Whoosh…the cool sweaty air hits my face. It’s the gym, filled with diverse faces. Old Pat is here. Red-faced and sweat rivulets down his bald head. Yet he is lifting weights like a 20 year old college athlete. Aron actually came today. He’s already lifting his max 150lbs. He just turned 14. Enough gawking, there are weights to be lifted and muscles to be strained.

I bump up my music to three-fourths loud, enough for people to barely hear my jams. S.P.M., “Bloody War“ blaring in my ears I head for the dumbbells. Hmm… I start with thirties then Twenty reps for each arm. When I’m about to give out I think, Alex Camacho. Defeat in my memory always sparks a sudden rage in me. It disgusts me thinking about when lost! Alex, a great. The only kid to have ever pinned me. In my sport! Wrestling. There another 20 done. Now it’s onto the next.

Hahaha, halfway done listening to “Sweet Dreams” by Marilyn Manson then I head over to the butterflies. I go hard… but why? To get stronger? Yes, of course. But for wrestling, right? Yeah so I can make my parents proud. Or at least if they will ever go to one of my meets, so they see me smash. Why won’t they go! Pump. Pump. Pump. I’m in deep thoughts and seven songs later Butterfly machine is over, onto the next.

While “Come together” is playing I start to aimlessly wonder the gym, doing each machine fast and hard just thinking. This is for me, my desires. Eazy-E, Tyler the Creator, Lil Rob and Eminem play as I try to get yolked. This is for wrestling, I think to myself.

Time to bench so I motion Aron over to spot me. I start with seventy percent of my weight. Easy enough, if only State was this effortless. Now Aron Challenges me to add fifty more pounds. This is where champions are made. My music booms but I’m not listening. Dan Gable once said ”Gold medals aren't really made of gold. They're made of sweat, determination, and a hard-to-find alloy called guts.” Well I’m earning mine. My arms ache after twenty ups and twenty downs. BUT WHY DO I PUMP?

Ten more Aron says. Fine I’ll do ten more but why? I love wrestling, my mom, dad family. In that order? All I want is to be remembered, something to leave my print in this meaningless world.

Ahhhhh!!! Up down, 4 more Up down 3 more, up down, Two more, It hurts, it really does. Up down. Like always after a hard workout I let out a roar. Not loud just to make my point. Wrestling is my life.

Maybe That’s why I pump. Maybe. It doesn’t matter.