Post by Rick Majors on May 21, 2016 21:14:44 GMT -5
Rick Majors stepped off of the elevator and he turned left. He walked a few steps down a hallway, pushed open a set of doors and walked through them into his condo's gym. He paused.
He'd never been here before. He used to have his own gym in his home, but he sold that place after Kelly moved out. It was just too much house for one person and it had too many memories. He needed something else.
So that's how he found himself, a 44-year-old professional wrestler, standing inside the gym at a condominium complex in downtown Toronto.
He sighed softly and then immediately became quite self-conscious about it, worried that someone else heard. No one else did. They all seemed very focused on their workouts. "Come on," he thought to himself. "Why would anyone care what you're doing here?"
It was at this point that Rick realized that he'd be standing a few steps ahead of the doorway for several minutes, staring into nothingness. This thought jolted him and he continued walking into the gym.
Glancing around, he first noticed several treadmills. Thinking that seemed like a good place to start, he walked towards them. A woman was on the treadmill closest to him, but there were many other vacant ones available. Perfect. Here we go.
The woman was running very quickly. She was dripping with sweat and breathing heavily, but she kept running. Rick couldn't help but glance at the timer on the machine.
"I don't remember the last time I ran that hard. She's been running for 35 minutes? I couldn't run at that speed for two minutes," he thought.
And, again, he was suddenly frozen.
When he snapped back into reality, he looked away from the treadmill woman and across the gym. Hopefully she didn't notice him. He didn't want to come off as some creep who goes to the gym to leer at women.
Across the gym, he saw a man, probably in his 20s, lifting what Rick could only assume was at least his body weight clear over his head.
"He's doing that almost effortlessly. My shoulder would snap if I tried that. Maybe ten years ago..."
Again, frozen.
Rick didn't know how long he stood there, but it was long enough that a couple of people started to notice him. Finally, he managed to walk over to a bench and sit down. He put his head in his hands. It was then that he realized he was sweating.
"I'm sweating already and I haven't done a thing... other than walk around and stare at people like some kind of idiot."
He sat there for a while. He didn't know how long. As he sat, he could vaguely feel the eyes of various people looking at him from time to time, but he didn't care. He was in this gym in body only. His mind was racing all over. His inner monologue was clashing with his thought process and battling with his memories.
"What are you doing, Rick? You're going to get into a wrestling ring again? You can't even get on a treadmill! And you want to put your body on the line inside the ring? You really want to face Baby Jenks? You know what she's capable of. Hell, you've felt what she's capable of. And it hurt. A lot.
She's younger than you. She's faster than you. She's stronger than you. Face it. She's better than you.
And she comes to the ring accompanied by several other people who are also younger, faster, stronger and better than you.
Do you have a death wish again?"
He thought about that question seriously for a while, even though it was one that he had asked himself.
What was he doing? Why was he going back to the ring, back to a place that had caused him so much pain? And why was he doing it at this point in his life?
"It's not ten or fifteen years ago. You're not one of the best in the business anymore. You're barely even in the business. You walked into this gym and not a single person knew who you are. You used to sell out stadiums. Now you're an afterthought that they tack on at the end of the show because they feel bad."
Moments in time came rushing back to him now all at once, each one appearing faster and faster than the one before it. Breaking his neck in 2005. His friends turning their backs on him one by one. Being brutalized by Dillon Durst. Becoming NLCW's first Undisputed World Champion in 2007. Retiring for the first time in 2008. Kelly's car accident. Returning to wrestling. NLCW closing. Joining PCW in 2012. Being eliminated from the Deadly Rumble by Grimm. Almost dying in the ring against that same man. Kelly moving out. The 2014 Last Chance Battle Royal and Icemann Invitational Tournament. His suicide attempt. His divorce being finalized. Attacking strangers. Turning himself into police. Psychological counselling. Returning to the Last Chance Battle Royal in 2015. Being eliminated in seconds. Anger management. Returning to PCW again. Getting triple power bombed.
It all flashed by so quickly. Was this it? Was he dying? Right now on this bench in the gym?
It would actually be pretty fitting. Dying while training for yet another attempted comeback.
"But I don't want to die."
Wait.... where did that come from? Him? Yes.... it had. And, upon reflection, it was true. That's how he felt. For the first time in many years, he didn't want to die. In fact, he wanted to live. He wanted to look forward. Somehow, this bizarre conversation that he was having with himself inside his head had helped him recognize that.
"Things haven't turned out the way I wanted.
But that's okay. It's time to move on."
And that's exactly it.
It's not ten or fifteen or twenty years ago. He wasn't in his 20s or 30s. He was about halfway through his 40s. He's old. And that's okay. What isn't okay is living in these bygone days.
It's impossible to truly recapture the past. You can remember it. You can learn from it. But you can't live in it. The one truth that affects everyone, from the richest king to the poorest pauper, is time. Time keeps going for everyone and it doesn't give you a choice in the matter. You have to go with it. Your hair turns grey. Your skin gains lines and wrinkles. Your body weakens. Your hairline recedes. People come into your life and people leave it. There are some things you try to hold on to, but you don't always succeed. And there are some things that you have to let go. For your own sake.
You will always carry the big moments. You will be marked by the scars of failure and the joys of success for your entire life. These moments are made you what you are today. But the don't define you. And they don't dictate your future.
Rick Majors thought hard. He felt things becoming clearer. In every one of those key moments that just flashed through his head, there was a one common thread, no matter what the moment was.
"Rick, every time, no matter what happened, you got up. You got up the next day and you kept going. Whether it was good or it was bad, you got up the next day. And you kept going. Even when it was really, really bad and you didn't want to, you did. You had to. The only only choice is death, and you know you're not ready for that.
You're not Rick 'The Impact' Majors anymore. You're not the face of a company or star of a brand. Your best years may be behind you instead of in front of you. There's no way to know. And that's okay. This might not be where you thought you'd be. That's okay. You've made mistakes, and that's okay too.
You've lost a lot. But you haven't lost everything."
It was time to release himself from the grip of the past. It had been strangling him. He might be 44 years old, but he's not dead. He's alive. And, God willing, he was going to be alive for many, many years.
"Do you really want to spend those years shaking and sweating on a bench, thinking about what could have been?"
Rick Majors got up.
He walked over to a treadmill. He started to jog.
He'd never been here before. He used to have his own gym in his home, but he sold that place after Kelly moved out. It was just too much house for one person and it had too many memories. He needed something else.
So that's how he found himself, a 44-year-old professional wrestler, standing inside the gym at a condominium complex in downtown Toronto.
He sighed softly and then immediately became quite self-conscious about it, worried that someone else heard. No one else did. They all seemed very focused on their workouts. "Come on," he thought to himself. "Why would anyone care what you're doing here?"
It was at this point that Rick realized that he'd be standing a few steps ahead of the doorway for several minutes, staring into nothingness. This thought jolted him and he continued walking into the gym.
Glancing around, he first noticed several treadmills. Thinking that seemed like a good place to start, he walked towards them. A woman was on the treadmill closest to him, but there were many other vacant ones available. Perfect. Here we go.
The woman was running very quickly. She was dripping with sweat and breathing heavily, but she kept running. Rick couldn't help but glance at the timer on the machine.
"I don't remember the last time I ran that hard. She's been running for 35 minutes? I couldn't run at that speed for two minutes," he thought.
And, again, he was suddenly frozen.
When he snapped back into reality, he looked away from the treadmill woman and across the gym. Hopefully she didn't notice him. He didn't want to come off as some creep who goes to the gym to leer at women.
Across the gym, he saw a man, probably in his 20s, lifting what Rick could only assume was at least his body weight clear over his head.
"He's doing that almost effortlessly. My shoulder would snap if I tried that. Maybe ten years ago..."
Again, frozen.
Rick didn't know how long he stood there, but it was long enough that a couple of people started to notice him. Finally, he managed to walk over to a bench and sit down. He put his head in his hands. It was then that he realized he was sweating.
"I'm sweating already and I haven't done a thing... other than walk around and stare at people like some kind of idiot."
He sat there for a while. He didn't know how long. As he sat, he could vaguely feel the eyes of various people looking at him from time to time, but he didn't care. He was in this gym in body only. His mind was racing all over. His inner monologue was clashing with his thought process and battling with his memories.
"What are you doing, Rick? You're going to get into a wrestling ring again? You can't even get on a treadmill! And you want to put your body on the line inside the ring? You really want to face Baby Jenks? You know what she's capable of. Hell, you've felt what she's capable of. And it hurt. A lot.
She's younger than you. She's faster than you. She's stronger than you. Face it. She's better than you.
And she comes to the ring accompanied by several other people who are also younger, faster, stronger and better than you.
Do you have a death wish again?"
He thought about that question seriously for a while, even though it was one that he had asked himself.
What was he doing? Why was he going back to the ring, back to a place that had caused him so much pain? And why was he doing it at this point in his life?
"It's not ten or fifteen years ago. You're not one of the best in the business anymore. You're barely even in the business. You walked into this gym and not a single person knew who you are. You used to sell out stadiums. Now you're an afterthought that they tack on at the end of the show because they feel bad."
Moments in time came rushing back to him now all at once, each one appearing faster and faster than the one before it. Breaking his neck in 2005. His friends turning their backs on him one by one. Being brutalized by Dillon Durst. Becoming NLCW's first Undisputed World Champion in 2007. Retiring for the first time in 2008. Kelly's car accident. Returning to wrestling. NLCW closing. Joining PCW in 2012. Being eliminated from the Deadly Rumble by Grimm. Almost dying in the ring against that same man. Kelly moving out. The 2014 Last Chance Battle Royal and Icemann Invitational Tournament. His suicide attempt. His divorce being finalized. Attacking strangers. Turning himself into police. Psychological counselling. Returning to the Last Chance Battle Royal in 2015. Being eliminated in seconds. Anger management. Returning to PCW again. Getting triple power bombed.
It all flashed by so quickly. Was this it? Was he dying? Right now on this bench in the gym?
It would actually be pretty fitting. Dying while training for yet another attempted comeback.
"But I don't want to die."
Wait.... where did that come from? Him? Yes.... it had. And, upon reflection, it was true. That's how he felt. For the first time in many years, he didn't want to die. In fact, he wanted to live. He wanted to look forward. Somehow, this bizarre conversation that he was having with himself inside his head had helped him recognize that.
"Things haven't turned out the way I wanted.
But that's okay. It's time to move on."
And that's exactly it.
It's not ten or fifteen or twenty years ago. He wasn't in his 20s or 30s. He was about halfway through his 40s. He's old. And that's okay. What isn't okay is living in these bygone days.
It's impossible to truly recapture the past. You can remember it. You can learn from it. But you can't live in it. The one truth that affects everyone, from the richest king to the poorest pauper, is time. Time keeps going for everyone and it doesn't give you a choice in the matter. You have to go with it. Your hair turns grey. Your skin gains lines and wrinkles. Your body weakens. Your hairline recedes. People come into your life and people leave it. There are some things you try to hold on to, but you don't always succeed. And there are some things that you have to let go. For your own sake.
You will always carry the big moments. You will be marked by the scars of failure and the joys of success for your entire life. These moments are made you what you are today. But the don't define you. And they don't dictate your future.
Rick Majors thought hard. He felt things becoming clearer. In every one of those key moments that just flashed through his head, there was a one common thread, no matter what the moment was.
"Rick, every time, no matter what happened, you got up. You got up the next day and you kept going. Whether it was good or it was bad, you got up the next day. And you kept going. Even when it was really, really bad and you didn't want to, you did. You had to. The only only choice is death, and you know you're not ready for that.
You're not Rick 'The Impact' Majors anymore. You're not the face of a company or star of a brand. Your best years may be behind you instead of in front of you. There's no way to know. And that's okay. This might not be where you thought you'd be. That's okay. You've made mistakes, and that's okay too.
You've lost a lot. But you haven't lost everything."
It was time to release himself from the grip of the past. It had been strangling him. He might be 44 years old, but he's not dead. He's alive. And, God willing, he was going to be alive for many, many years.
"Do you really want to spend those years shaking and sweating on a bench, thinking about what could have been?"
Rick Majors got up.
He walked over to a treadmill. He started to jog.
