A good (and humbling) training session with my old training pal, the sand bag. It was deeply humbling and there was no one to share it with except the chalk-covered mats and the barbells of the quiet gym (I was hiding from the January masses in a secret training spot). Some of the words below came to me as I wrestled both mentally and physically with the assigned sand bag tasks of my training plan. Thanks to Simon and Garfunkel for the inspiration and for the foundation of my mash-up of their words/experience and mine.
The Sound of Humbling
Hello sand bag, my old friendI’ve come to train with you again
Because a big mountain softly creeping
Left its slopes while I was sleeping
And the dream was planted in my brain
Within the sound of humbling
In the dusty gyms, I train alone
with sand bag made of stone
‘Neath the halo of a florescent lamp
I picked you up, you were cold and damp
When my mind was stabbed by the flash of a can’t do it light
That split my might
And touched the sound of humbling.
And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand reps, maybe more.
My mind talking without speaking
My heart hearing without listening
We’re writing words that must be shared
And we’ll take the dare
To write the sound of humbling.
“Power,” said I, “You will begin to know.
Strength like a plant begins to grow.
Hear my words that I might teach me.
Lift my sandbag higher than a tree.”
Feel the doubt like silent raindrops fall
And echo in the gym’s hall.
And I bowed my head and prayed
To the humbling effort that I made.
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words it was forming.
And the thoughts said, “The strength of the body is over-written on the mind’s walls
and they can fall
and be whispered in the sounds of humbling.