So. I have this gym membership and as I run around the track, I pass all these people in crossfit training class, which is in the center of the track.
I see sweat rolling off these peoples faces, backs, and I don't want to know where. I could even slip and die if I'm not careful, in said sweat. Their bodies make She-Ra and He-Man want to vomit in muscle envy and I am sure that sugar and fat are just as bad swear words as the naughtiest of swear words.
The repetitions seem endless. The agony on each face very real, some with almost a mania. Their breathing is so intense you see all those accessory muscles trying to help out, like some chronic smoker with COPD. My version of purgatory, I tell you.
I am not really criticizing here. In fact, I admire the strength of character and the determination and fortitude required to have a body in such peak condition. I studied health sciences and value being fit and eating well. Just maybe a bit extreme for me.
I, myself, feel as though I am on a hamster wheel as I try to take advantage of the daycare to reclaim several years worth of less than stellar physical activity.
The point of all these descriptors? As I endlessly run in boredom, I start to think about all the waste of energy we collectively spend in a gym that could be used on more useful projects. My imagination sees me slenderizing while I supply elderly people with wood for their fire instead of them struggling to pay for gas. I see these muscle guys volunteering with the group that builds houses for injured veterans that can't be mobile in their current homes. Just think of how sore your muscles are when you paint ceilings and walls. We could paint the entire down town area and improve our neighborhoods. Digging trenches for sprinklers, yard work, pruning overgrowth, maintaining trails etc-on a volunteer basis can maintain fitness, but are activities that are purposeful and benefit more than ourselves.
Hey.
It worked in Karate Kid, right?? Wax on, wax off. Accomplishing something. (I don't know about standing on one foot on logs, though. Don't call me on it.)
Or at least having fun like in soccer or football or anything other, really, than endless reps and endless circles around the track.
Basically, I just hate exercising in the gym and miss things like hiking, playing a game of frisbee football, going snowboarding, taking a walk that lasts more than two blocks, and really any activity that lasts more than 15 minutes. I tried to help with the cutting up/loading/ hauling away of all the trees that fell down in our area and spent most of my time helping my children, which is how it should be-and I love it. It is just such a sedentary role. They want to be held a lot. They need a lot of face time and attention. They want to interact-at all times. This is why even though I have a perfectly good double seater running stroller and a portable dvd player and toys galore, I still can't run outside, because remember 15 min? And that is the extreme end of patience, they would be glad to be home after about 10 minutes.
I guess I'm writing all this to remind myself why in the world I take myself to the place of useless pain and energy waste.
Oh yes! I remember the first game of racquetball I had with my husband there. We both looked at each other, incredulous. We two, together, having fun, minus children. It was liberating and I felt guilty for feeling it. Most days he works, so we only do that about once or twice a week, but even when I am running circles and attending classes where ladies scream at me to "hit it!" and "push, push, push", (lamaze class, anyone?) I am thankful for a little break so that I can come back stronger to my little lovies and hear them say "I missed you mommy, but we had fun doing....etc." and seeing them learn that I really will come back every time. I have been so concerned about attachment, you see. Allowing gym daycare has been a stretch for my overprotective mommy self.
My husband read through the above and said "I still don't know what the point of this entry is." So I'll tell you. It is that I ramble a lot. Also, if you don't have children and can pursue other pursuits, why are you spending time in the gym?? Why?? For the love!
I'm thinking of indulging in a gym membership when Asher hits 6 months precisely because of the "15 min" catch. During any 25 min stint on the treadmill I have to jump off at least 3 times to plug in pacifiers, turn on bathroom lights or start the next netflix. sigh. But would I really go? Kuddos to you for getting there!
ReplyDeleteI miss your ramblings quite a bit. Thanks for a new one. :)
ReplyDeletei feel much the same way. i feel like there are so many more important things i could be doing with my time!! not that it is bad to take care of yourself, and junk.
ReplyDeleteIn the old days our work to survive was also exercise. Just getting dinner was work - no such thing as fast food. Visiting with a neighbor was work - you walked for quite a long way to do it. Get-togethers were often for work purposes - raise a barn, a house, make a quilt. So work, exercise, connecting all fed our needs and kept us healthy. And we weren't expected to do all of them fast so we could be on the school board or volunteer at the hospital (we were the hospital) or make a prom dress (because store-bought was not modest . . . and what was store-bought?) (by-the-way, if I had to make it we would still be naked, just sayin'). Now we artificially make time for surrogate exercise to be emotionally and physically healthy. At the same time, my grandmother had 8 children and only 5 of them lived and she was 40 when my mother was born (my mom's 2 oldest sisters were old enough to be her mother and she had a nephew when she was born). Women often died in childbirth and men lived longer than women. We are busier in many ways than the old days. And recreation was hanging out the clothes (I grew up with a dryer and it was called a clothesline in the back yard) and being outside. Communication was not talking on the phone and telling the children to be quiet because you had an important call. Communication was talking to the people who lived in your home. We touched each other. Babies were carried against the body, not in a car seat. Do I muss the good old day? No. I am old but those days weren't good and it took a long time to live past them. As for going to a gym . . . Maecy, run some for me because I know I will never do it. I think every time I stand up I am lifting weights and why am I not buffed? And is there a point to what I am saying? No. Except that I get to say it and not just let it run around in my head. Which, now that I think about it, is the most running I ever do . . . .
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