Personal Narrative-Lace Room

Walking down the gym hallway, I could hear the clanking of metal plates emanating from the weight room. It was just past 6:30 in the morning, on a Monday in December. I had made this walk many times previously, heading to my gym classes, but this time was different. I was still rubbing the sleep out of my eyes when I reached the locker room. Tentatively throwing my stuff into my locker, I wasn’t prepared for the world I was about to step into. The light shined bright into my eyes as for the first time in my life I stepped into the weight room. Right away I was immersed into the smell of the weight room. The acrid smell of rust developing on the steel plates combined with stale body odor makes for a stench you never forget. Now that I was in the weight room, I could hear the music playing from the speakers, as well as the grunting of exertion. I was taken aback by the sight of the strange metal equipment, knowing nothing about what I was supposed to do. The first person I saw was my friend who had
encouraged me to show up that morning. He told me to follow the plan that was written on the white board, and that I would have a blast. Bench press was the first exercise written on the board, and by coincidence there was one bench open. After stretching my arms for a few seconds, I thought I was ready to compete with Arnold Schwarzenegger. When I gripped the cold metal, a surge of power rushed through me. That surge immediately went right out the window, as I struggled with a very pedestrian weight. As my arms were wobbling, and my triceps were burning with pain, I thought, “What did I get myself into?” At that time I could not have imagined how weightlifting would become one of my greatest joys, and also help me transform my life. As the clock ticked towards 7:30, I realized that my first day in the weight room was coming to a close. After about an hour of working out, my entire body was craving a break. The sweat beads were rolling down my forehead with an unseen ferocity. While watching my reflection in the mirror, I could see my beet red face grimacing in exertion on every repetition. My nose had since gotten used to the putrid smell of the rusty steel plates mixed with the odor of sweat. The grunts had gotten more sporadic as the workouts ceased and the conversations picked up. My muscles were full with lactic acid and excessively swollen with blood rushing to repair the torn fibers. When I joined the flow of people filing out of the weight room I was overcome with mixed feelings. At first I was ecstatic as I was tired from working out, but I also was feeling sad, as I had thoroughly enjoyed my time that morning. The euphoria I felt as I was in the locker room after my workout was something that was indescribable. It was as if a million weights were lifted off my shoulders, making me feel like I had just conquered the world. Illogically, days where I get up early to workout are the days where I have the most energy at school. As my final days of high school are rapidly approaching, I have realized the enormous effect the weight room at Sartell High School has had on my life.
Walking into that room on the first day, I was a timid freshman. I was facing a daunting class schedule, and also the stigma of being the lowest grade on the school ladder. Through lifting, I have been transformed into a confident senior, ready to take on the world after high school. Not only did I become a more confident person, I learned many life skills through my time in the weight room. The concept of hard work, putting everything into a specific event is an essential lesson I’ve learned through lifting. In a few weeks, I will experience my last workout in the weight room at Sartell. That day will be cherished, thankful for everything that the weight room has given me. As the second hand ticks closer to 7:30 on that last day, my past memories will resurface creating nostalgia for my time in that white walled
room.