Post by Oath Breaker on Jul 17, 2016 1:50:02 GMT -5
At the Gym
Without a doubt, the largest man Tommy ever laid eyes on outside of Freezer Burn’s Training Grounds. At seven foot tall and somewhere around the five hundred pound mark, Tommy had difficulty focusing his brain in the massive girth of the man. How could a man allow himself to get that fat and still be able to workout in the gym?
The man in question was doing squats. Seven hundred off the rack with three spotters, one on either side of the bar and the third behind him with arms hovering just out of touch of the big man’s waistline. Yet, by the looks of things, the big man didn’t need a spotter this day. He needed a diet plan.
One of the guys on a treadmill noticed Tommy eyeing the big man and spoke up. “They got a lifting competition on him.”
Turning toward the new voice, Tommy just looked curious.
“Drop five bucks in the jar, get 3 chances to lift him. You lift, you get the jar.”
“How high you gotta lift im to get it to count?”
“Two inches.”
He hadn’t thought about lifting the big man. At least not until the guy on the treadmill mentioned the contest. Having not been booked by the WCF meant he needed to find money anyway, which was irrelevant anymore, since he wasn’t getting his pay for the matches he was doing. Hell, he was at the point where he was making more money hustling off the streets than what he was being promised by Seth anyway.
Tommy wasted no time searching for the jar in question and stuffing a five on in. The man behind the counter nodded in the direction of the huge man, who went off to the sides where padded floor mats were set down.
“Anybody ever lift you before?”
“Yup. Two times. Both barely got the two inches they needed, but it counts.”
After some litght talk and positioning behind the man, Tommy grabbed around the waist as far as he could and lifted. Would have, except his hands slid right off the massive girth. Frustrated that an attempt had been wasted so quickly, he took a step back and actually started to think his way through this mess.
“I still have two more shots. I’m gonna warm up my muscles.”
After a while, and a couple sets of light squats, crunches, weighted dips, leg press and deadlifts, the proud cherokee felt he was ready for another round.
He had thought this through. With his muscles warmed up, he could lift more while reducing the chances of injuring himself. And he also decided that his best chance was with a fireman’s carry lift.
With everyone in place for his second attempt. He gets the big man’s weight right onto his shoulders, and started to push up. There was a shifting of weight, the man’s toes dragging across the mat, but not a lift. Tommy steadied himself, kept pushing, the flow of blood turning his face redder than usual and veins started sticking out on his neck and forehead, but still not a lift.
Tommy could feel his pulse slowing. The sights and sounds around him faded from his senses. He could hear the beginning chants of the war dance. Could feel the rhythm of feet stomping on the ground in unison. Could feel the bang of the drum matching with the earth song and syncing up with his own pulse. He could feel the adrenaline in his blood thick as pine tar. Felt the ancestors filling him with the power of his totem spirits.
With everything aligned, Tommy let the weight come down, his knees bending slightly, before pressing back up smooth and hard. The Big man’s feet left the padding and kept on going. The huge behemoth soon found himself squarely on Tommy’s shoulders, higher off the ground than he could remember in his entire adult life, and held there.
Tommy held the man up. Held him for several long seconds as a small crowd of weight lifters gathered around for this spectacle. Tommy gave a yell, half triumph, half adrenaline, and slowly came back down. The man found his feet on the mat again and Tommy gave an adrenaline pumped scream that made everyone step back.
His heart went: Thump Thump
His head pounded like an anvil. His sound muffled, unable to comprehend what people were saying.
Thump Thump.
Vision blurred. No more sound. Things tilting sideways.
Thump Thump.
He didn’t know how, but he was on the mat. His vision had turned to black
Thump Thump.
His ancestors came visiting. Praising him for getting into the next level of spiritual attunement. Messages without words.
Thump Thump.
Tommy dreamed happy dreams. Slept more comfortably than he had in months. No nightmares or war. Only peace. And deep inside, he knew what it meant.
Without a doubt, the largest man Tommy ever laid eyes on outside of Freezer Burn’s Training Grounds. At seven foot tall and somewhere around the five hundred pound mark, Tommy had difficulty focusing his brain in the massive girth of the man. How could a man allow himself to get that fat and still be able to workout in the gym?
The man in question was doing squats. Seven hundred off the rack with three spotters, one on either side of the bar and the third behind him with arms hovering just out of touch of the big man’s waistline. Yet, by the looks of things, the big man didn’t need a spotter this day. He needed a diet plan.
One of the guys on a treadmill noticed Tommy eyeing the big man and spoke up. “They got a lifting competition on him.”
Turning toward the new voice, Tommy just looked curious.
“Drop five bucks in the jar, get 3 chances to lift him. You lift, you get the jar.”
“How high you gotta lift im to get it to count?”
“Two inches.”
He hadn’t thought about lifting the big man. At least not until the guy on the treadmill mentioned the contest. Having not been booked by the WCF meant he needed to find money anyway, which was irrelevant anymore, since he wasn’t getting his pay for the matches he was doing. Hell, he was at the point where he was making more money hustling off the streets than what he was being promised by Seth anyway.
Tommy wasted no time searching for the jar in question and stuffing a five on in. The man behind the counter nodded in the direction of the huge man, who went off to the sides where padded floor mats were set down.
“Anybody ever lift you before?”
“Yup. Two times. Both barely got the two inches they needed, but it counts.”
After some litght talk and positioning behind the man, Tommy grabbed around the waist as far as he could and lifted. Would have, except his hands slid right off the massive girth. Frustrated that an attempt had been wasted so quickly, he took a step back and actually started to think his way through this mess.
“I still have two more shots. I’m gonna warm up my muscles.”
After a while, and a couple sets of light squats, crunches, weighted dips, leg press and deadlifts, the proud cherokee felt he was ready for another round.
He had thought this through. With his muscles warmed up, he could lift more while reducing the chances of injuring himself. And he also decided that his best chance was with a fireman’s carry lift.
With everyone in place for his second attempt. He gets the big man’s weight right onto his shoulders, and started to push up. There was a shifting of weight, the man’s toes dragging across the mat, but not a lift. Tommy steadied himself, kept pushing, the flow of blood turning his face redder than usual and veins started sticking out on his neck and forehead, but still not a lift.
Tommy could feel his pulse slowing. The sights and sounds around him faded from his senses. He could hear the beginning chants of the war dance. Could feel the rhythm of feet stomping on the ground in unison. Could feel the bang of the drum matching with the earth song and syncing up with his own pulse. He could feel the adrenaline in his blood thick as pine tar. Felt the ancestors filling him with the power of his totem spirits.
With everything aligned, Tommy let the weight come down, his knees bending slightly, before pressing back up smooth and hard. The Big man’s feet left the padding and kept on going. The huge behemoth soon found himself squarely on Tommy’s shoulders, higher off the ground than he could remember in his entire adult life, and held there.
Tommy held the man up. Held him for several long seconds as a small crowd of weight lifters gathered around for this spectacle. Tommy gave a yell, half triumph, half adrenaline, and slowly came back down. The man found his feet on the mat again and Tommy gave an adrenaline pumped scream that made everyone step back.
His heart went: Thump Thump
His head pounded like an anvil. His sound muffled, unable to comprehend what people were saying.
Thump Thump.
Vision blurred. No more sound. Things tilting sideways.
Thump Thump.
He didn’t know how, but he was on the mat. His vision had turned to black
Thump Thump.
His ancestors came visiting. Praising him for getting into the next level of spiritual attunement. Messages without words.
Thump Thump.
Tommy dreamed happy dreams. Slept more comfortably than he had in months. No nightmares or war. Only peace. And deep inside, he knew what it meant.