Note to Self

Do not try on bathing suits during lunch hour after “Two Slice Tuesday” at work. No matter how good you feel about your body, you will end up thinking that you look like a giant mound of vanilla pudding ensconced in spandex in some kind of crazy body-dysmorphic panic attack.

It is far better to shop for running shoes in these situations.

Small Victories

In my sleepy state, I wanted to be sure to write this down. Because it feels really important at the moment.

I am not sure if it will feel the same way in the light of day and I don’t want to waste your time in reading, but so be it. Sometimes we think things at 4:30 AM that don’t make sense at 9.

I just woke up cold in my room. I hadn’t turned on the heater last night because I was too lazy to plug it back in (its cord shares an extension with the TV and my blow dryer, etc.)

Anyway, as I got out of bed, I could every muscle in my lower half working in coordination. I had the notion as I stood on my floor that my body was working in synch to accomplish this task and it felt amazing. I felt strong. My body felt weighty and I was filled with a sense of pride.

One of the most deep concepts that I really began to understand in grad school was the idea that it was very profound how our bodies can hold themselves upright and do all they do. The coordination of muscles on our skeletal frames constantly shifts. It was something that touched me in my first movement class. The near-constant miniscule shifts of the body that is still.

Try it sometime. Stand perfectly still. And then feel your muscles moving imperceptibly to keep yourself upright. I don’t want to get all metaphysical on your ass at this early hour, but it is pure anatomical magic.

Last night I had a notion to sit around and spin my wheels. You know, fuck shit up. I had a brief talk with Jacket who gave me some advice on what to do and it helped. It is good to have friends who understand the propensity to want to hurt yourself and give into the bottoming-out impulses in the dark times.

What I did instead (much to the amusement of my roommates, because they have never seen this side of me) was I joined the local Y and ran for 30 minutes on a treadmill. I felt very proud of myself for that decision.

Hence the “feeling every muscle” phenomenon.

When I went in to sign up, the lady behind the counter looked me up and said that I used to be a member, right?

Yes, it was two lifetimes ago.

Turns out, she reported, that the last time was in 2000. She seemed pretty impressed that it had been that long. Me too. I mean, I have been a member of the Y (a different Y) since then, but that was what they had on record there in Logan Square.

But I paid my fee and I ran for 30 minutes. I channeled all of the bad energy, the crazy, the wheel spinning in putting foot before foot and pushing myself. It was really hard and I definitely am not in as good of shape as I used to be. I definitely didn’t tap into those great endorphins that will definitely come back soon (my body remembers that each time it does this, it takes less and less time for that feeling) but it was a small victory.

Small victories that lead to a sense of power in my body at 4:37 a.m. I will take ‘em.