Writer's Block: Life without Squats

I look at my power rack

and see a rusted frame

a weak monument

to the greater ambitions

of a less-compressed spine.

I can still squat on my toes;

I can use the toilet like any man.

I can tie my shoes,

put on my socks,

lift the litter off the floor.

Lunges are a poor substitute;

leg extensions are for babies

and people scared of weights.

I console myself with the fact

that the Rock doesn't do squats.

My legs won't atrophy without them,

for it is not their destiny to be

balsa wood sticks.

As Jeff Goldblum said,

"Life will find a way."

And so I will persevere,

while my power rack gathers dust.

Good bye, old friend.

May I use you again some day.