The Caveman...

I peel the skin off the calluses on my hands. I can smell the rust that they’re covered with. The sharp smell tingles my heightened senses, taunting me to cut short my rest, enticing me to continue. I grip the barbell once more and pull. The weight comes off the floor smoothly, and with a fluid motion I set it to rest on my shoulders. I am smiling, but the mirror shows me grimacing. My mind is focused on balancing the weight; I don’t have control of my facial expressions. I push the weight and raise it over my head; I lower, and then push again. It gets exponentially harder; the adrenalin pumps through my blood, but my shoulders fatigue with each repetition. I feel the muscles tighten, starved of oxygen, I see the veins on my arms bulge out, then around my shoulders, I can feel them throbbing. And then I cannot lift anymore. The weight hangs in the air, halfway through the upward motion, threatening to fall and crush my skull, I still try to raise it but it’s over. I lower the barbell and bring it to my knees. Ten seconds before I try to complete two more repetitions…

The caveman inside me stirs. He is enjoying this. He feeds on the thrill, the stubborn resolve, the single-minded doggedness in the pursuit of a purely instinctual desire. What he wants is simple; a home, a hunting ground, and a woman to share his kill. He wants freedom in his life; vast open plains for him to roam. And he wants to live life the way his instincts tell him to; to experience the pleasures his senses can bring to him, to hone these senses, and to excel in the things his body has evolved for. He lives in the adrenalin, the feeling of being on the edge, when I am pushing my body beyond its limits.

I bend my knees and then spring up, thrusting my arms out and then pulling them back, bringing the weight to rest on my shoulders once more. And then I try to push again. I succeed once, but on the next attempt my mind falters in its fight against my body.

I hear the caveman's call so clearly in these moments. His call influences my life even when I am not conscious of it. The caveman hates things about the life I am headed for, and so he leads me to sabotage myself. He fears other things; people and their practices that I do not understand, and when faced with these he wants me to hide in my cave. And then there are things that he desires strongly and he pushes me to extreme lengths to attain. I hear his call and it is my own. He defines the very core of my instincts.