By Dominic BeastMode Brisbin

Life is full of shitty situations. And even the biggest badass you know has a place where he goes to regain focus and shield himself from all the bullshit of the outside world. A sanctuary of sorts. Mine is a church forged for those of a different faith.

I've been dating this girl for a while now. She's pretty supportive of my daily grind. But as with most things we care about, they have the ability to drive us past our mental limit. My loving girlfriend, bless her heart, is no exeption. So we get into a little arguement, nothing really big or serious, actually more of a case of miscommunication than anything else. And don't tell her, but it was without a doubt my fault. None the less, it had my veins pumping a battery acid & napalm cocktail. Mixed with the 3 scoops of Jack3d and testosterone amplifiers.....it's easy to assume I was in full Beast Mode.

Now let me stop here: this is no blog about relationship issues...because in all honesty I'm no pro at that ( A slew of failed past relationships stand as a testament to that). No, this is about finding one's  sanctuary.
The gym is my cathedral. No stained glass with pictures of Jesus or various saints. Instead these walls are canvased with pictures of various hall of fame bodybuilers from years past.  The water fountain acts as my holy water. I take a sip upon entering to "cleanse" my soul before stepping deeper into this house of lost souls. The line of hammer strength machines and treadmills are  my pews, filled with a congregation of believers. Confessional? That is what the squat rack is for. A place for me to repent for my many sins and worries....and trust me, I'm a sinner.

With each sin, each stresser in my life, each topic of something that eats at my soul: I add more weight to the rack. There is no priest on the other side of the barrier. No, just fellow members of the brotherhood forged from blood,sweat, and yes....even tears, that have been soaked within the sacred ground beneath our feet. You see, this is my safe haven. Inside these walls I am but a follower of the faith. A sheep looking for it's sheppard, and seeking protection from the wolves. This temple is but a place to regain focus and once again find and cleanse my soul.

This is but one way to think of the gym. Not as a place of suffering (although, at times it doubles as that too). But a place where problems are solved, goals are set, and souls are "born again". Call this blasphemy, shit, call it whatever you want. The fact remains that with every painful squat, press, or pull...this is remains your sanctuary....Amen.