Whole Lotta Love

When I was growing up my first religion was the music of Led Zeppelin.
The big bad Satanic Led Zeppelin.
We would play their music in the car on the way to cross country races: 3 miles on grassy hills.
A 70's muscle car: a Plymouth Barracuda.
Cross country is a contest of how much pain you can endure.
The ultimate racing song is Whole Lotta Love.
It has a distorted electronic part that represents pain to me as the sacrifice for love.
I didn't pay much attention to lyrics, their sound was always much bigger than the literal meaning and was a fantasy scape for wherever I needed to go.
The opening riffs of Whole Lotta Love announced that something monumental is about to happen.
And now it's time to lay on the line everything I hurt and everything I believe in.
The starting gun goes of and for the first mile I feel invincible, almost sprinting like I could go forever.
By the second mile the pain starts to set in.
By the third mile I can taste blood in my throat, and my vision starts to narrow as oxygen to my brain dwindles.
Postive thoughts are almost all gone and doubts take over.
There are 10 guys in front of me and I can't win.
I don't know if i can finish.
Lord, you show me the power it takes to defeat evil in this world. I can fiinish. 
He says, "No, you have to win."
This is going to hurt. 
He shows me the 39 lashes of Jesus.
Many Magdalene in hysterical grief leaping backward into the crowd.
More pain
Higher.
Faster
Passing guys. 
Then he shows me the crucifixion.
More pain
Higher
Faster
Reeling them in one by one. .
There is one more guy way ahead of me.
I can't do it; he's too far away. 
And now we come to the finale of the song in my head: 
There is a long pause, when everything goes into slow motion as the pain takes over drawing out every agonizing second.
"Way down inside Youuuuu need it: Looooove....Push, push, push, push!"
The drums explode and the final charge is on.
I see the resurrection as Jesus commends his spirit to the Father
The whip is on me. 
I dig deeper.
Energy out of nowhere.
Crazy acceleration.
Pulling up alongside the leader, exchanging the lead in a desperate battle. 
I finally take down that last runner to finish first. 
Angels bang gongs on fire to the final scream of triumph.
I collapse on the ground
I have died with Christ.
​And I rise with Christ.