There are two things that I am. I am a extremely patriotic and I’m a gym rat. Even when it’s a beautiful 75 degrees outside, I’d rather be inside at the gym lifting and biking then be outside (except for playing soccer and running – I cannot stand treadmills). Since I’ve been home, I’ve changed up my normal routine and begun working at the local Marine Corps base gym because they have new equipment and everybody there motivates me to be better and push myself further, however today I witnessed something that affected me so deeply, I just needed to write about it.
I bare scars but not the sort that reflect courage, sacrifice, and patriotism. I’ve moved around the world for our country but have never lost my Dad, Mom, Brother or Sister to the bullet-filled sand storms in the Middle East. Less than a few years, maybe even a few months separate us by birth but the differences between us are worlds apart.
I was in the middle of my sixth two minute interval, peddling as fast as my legs could propel me, when he walked in. The standard olive green t-shirt, upright posture, and muscular arms that would scare even the biggest of bullies marked him as a Marine, but what really caught my eye were the two prosthetics attached to the knee on this young warrior. No amount of words can describe what I felt at that exact moment. Sympathy for his loss. Pride for his commitment and sacrifice. But most of all, motivation. If a man, no older than 22 or 23 years old could walk in to a gym, surrounded by his able-bodied comrades and lift weights as if nothing was wrong, then there was no reason for me to say “no” to anything or complain about something else again in my life. I cannot even imagine what he has already gone through, and cannot even begin to fathom the other numerous challenges he will face for the rest of his life, both mentally and physically.
I continued my workout, raising the weight of the dumbbells I was lifting, because if he could do it, then I could too. When he was worn out and pressed on, so did I. He was my inspiration and will definitely continue to be. There is no possible way that I could feel or understand his situation, but there was something that bonded us over that hour spent together in the gym. We did not exchange words, nor did we share a friendly smile, but I found commonality in both our pride for our country and drive to make ourselves better in the gym.
Our motives are no doubt different. We live entirely different lives. And although I have not and probably will not ever speak to him, let alone see him again in my life, he is my new motivator. And although I’m usually inspired by quotes or phrases, he need not say a word.
To the man in the olive green shirt and black shorts, thank you. Not only have you given both of your legs and so much more for my freedom, you have inspired me – I am eternally grateful for you and your brothers and sisters in arms.
God Bless America.
Standing with some of our nation’s finest
A Very Military Family
Dad’s retirement with a beautiful Star Spangled Banner
Jam of the day: Made in America by Toby Keith
