Why I Climb

Why do I climb? Why do I drag myself to the gym 6 days a week to climb on a stair master for an hour?

Because I can.
Because I am lucky to be alive.
Because I have the ability to walk upright.

And as long as I am alive, I will climb - it fuels the fire inside of me.

There’s something about the stair master: it’s meditative. It produces a sweat like no other. I feel like a superhero in shiny overpriced leggings.

There is so much about the world and about my life that I cannot control. But that hour - that is MY time. As the conveyor belt chugs along, I put one foot in front of the other, and take one step at a time.

Some days I can ramp up to the max speed.
Some days I am a level 2.
Both matter.

I spent most of my life controlled by others.
I climb because I have the freedom to do it.

I climb for the days I couldn’t stand.
I climb for the days I couldn’t get out of bed.
I climb for the nights I went to sleep crying, asking God to sacrifice me.

I repeat to myself, for as long as it takes, “I get to go to the gym.”
I say it over and over, like an anthem.

Before you know it, I’m at the gym. Afterward, I feel a high that’s pure, real, and not manufactured by pills.

I climb because I am alive. I climb because I have seen evil and wickedness. I climb because I’ve gone through a hell that no one should. I climb for myself, because this life is worth fighting for.

That’s why.