Originally posted May 1st, 2013

When I compete, I think of my lifting as expression.

We train every day. Some days are harder than others but when you do what I do for a living the training really is the center. It is the tether that ties me to the world. Without it, when I let go of it, I drift off into space and the longer I let go the harder it is to grab it again and pull myself back to where I belong.

Every day I am up and down like a crazy person. It is like following the heart of a lunatic artist or a moody clown. I have more control over my emotions now than I did when I was younger but even today I am still prone to huge swings. The good news is I have found a way to process most of these emotions.

I use my lifting.

Those of us who lift know that at some point the wind goes and then the body goes and the mind slips and then you are left with only your heart. Everything is burning and either you fight or you quit. Every day you either do one or the other. Every choice is a brushstroke of your portrait. Every day you paint your picture, you sing your song, you write your story.

When I compete and I get up on the platform I am there to show you all what I have done. I have been working on this for so long and I want to show you. I need to lift. All the days of smiles and all the days of sadness and frustration are in that set. I need you to see what I have gone through to do this. The arbitrary thing that is lifting, this expression of who I really am.

I believe this. I teach this. It is true. I stand up there and I don’t know where my heart will go. My mind bounces around on thoughts I try to use to make everything work. Thoughts I use to try and be strong ring in my ears. However it is always one day, one thing, one look, one word, one smile, one hope, or one pain that my heart will choose. And that will be the way of it.

I woke up this morning and I asked myself if this is the day you will see.

I did a set a while ago that I did not want to end. It was the last set of another life, an older kettle, a kettle long gone. It was the most beautiful set I had ever done. I did it for you, to make you proud, even though I knew you would never see it or read this or ever know.

In a little while I am back off to Juno, where I belong. It all goes into the masterpiece that one day I know I will complete.

I promise everyone who reads this and everyone who ever watches me when I am up there and anyone who even cares a little bit about me or who I really am or what I really do that I will get it.

I will finish.

Kettle,