There was sweat coming out of my ears. Out of my fucking ears.
I haven’t physically been to the gym in two weeks. My trainer and I have been doing the virtual thing and surprisingly, I’ve been good about keeping things up.
Going back to the gym wasn’t something I wanted to do. I like my routine at home. It’s my space and my pace. My trainer wasn’t on my run though. Before I get dressed, I still have those thoughts of, “Maybe I should cancel” or “Maybe I should just quit.” But then I thought about my “Why” and the fact that I have another person waiting on my ass so I got moving.
She’s there, you know. My cheerleader. And not just because I’m fucking paying her to be one either. She’s there because she wants to see me succeed as much as I want to see her succeed.
We’ve done this back and forth for years. Last December, I finally committed to working out with her for one year and as soon as I committed, I tried to renege. It’s not that I don’t like her, it’s that I don’t like what she represents.
She’s outside of my comfort zone. She’s a push that I need but I don’t want to take.
I have all the pieces lined up to ensure I have a foolproof year health and wellness wise. Wish I could easily afford the shit but that’s another story for another day. Me and finances are not bae – yet.
I was going to walk away from her, once again, because I don’t like her methods. I don’t like the way she challenges me.
I mentioned it to my best friend. She wasn’t having that shit. That hoe called my ass out quick. Then again, Virgos (both of them) are practical mutha fuckers who will most certainly tell you about your ass, with or without any kind of love. My PT at least feigns consideration of my feelings before advising me to course correct.
That’s the definition of insanity though – doing something the same way all the time and expecting a different result. And I won’t get a different result unless I do something different.
So, I’m learning to not think about the workouts and just show the fuck up.
And she was there. I’m sweating and complaining and cursing at her and doing pushups and she is there Pushing. Up. With. Me. Making sure I complete one rep and then another until a set is done and then four and then a circuit…
All the while she’s playing this God-awful ghetto country trap music. Like who the fuck listens to Nelly while exercising? Then again, I have my own vibe – I prefer Michael McDonald or Kenny Loggins on replay.
But yeah, she’s that friend. The friend who is fit, who everyone wants to look like and who also has just as many damning flaws as I do. But you’d never know because she hides them so well.
Then again, we’ve all become masters of disguise by the time we hit our 40s. We all have fucking issues. One of mine just happens to manifest itself physically. So we talk and confide in each other and decompress and purge and live to see another day, but I digress.
Last night we worked out together virtually. Well, I worked out and she begrudgingly watched. She fucking hates my 3lb weights. And while I sweated and discovered new curse words for her, we talked about having to help folks having nervous breakdowns and classmates being found dead in their homes and taking our loved ones’ burdens to the cross cuz we just ain’t friggin able.
What I’m learning from these one-hour torture sessions is that I am in no position to take on anyone else’s shit anymore because I have too much of my own. I can pray for folks and then put one foot in front of the other.
So that’s what I did today. I put one foot in front of the other and got my ass out of my bed and put on clothes and got into my car and drove 22 minutes to the gym where I spent 58 minutes and 20 seconds lamenting over the 15lb weight my cheerleader hoisted over my head.
I successfully burned 623 calories while she abused me and pushed me and demanded from me what I can’t seem to demand of myself so that I can become a better version of myself. I’m not sure how else to better describe a friend.
We’re both on a journey together and she is a learning partner. I’m learning from her while she, in turn, is learning from me.
And that’s why, in the midst of the sweat coming out of my ears and dripping down my face and temporarily clogging my nostrils – which created a comical nasal tango between oxygen and H2O – as this bitch hoisted a 15lb weight over my chest and told me to grab it to do some asinine exercise set that, five hours later, still has the back of my breasts throbbing, I appreciate my friend. Even though I continue to wonder why the fuck I am paying this woman to treat me this way…
Oh yeah, right. Cuz I don’t wanna die from being fat. I’d rather die from old age. This is what friends are for.
She’s one of a small handful of people I trust. She was a leaf that became a branch that has somehow become rooted. Because sometimes, even your roots have to change. Sometimes you have to cut away old roots so that new ones can grow. It’s the only way your life tree can flourish.
Right now, in this moment, I need her to be rooted to ensure I work on this word called ‘consistency’ and endure this word called ‘perseverance’ so that I can enjoy that word called ‘happiness’. Even though happiness is a state of mind and while I am currently happy, I desire to be happier.
So, I’m learning to be ok with this workout shitshow.
—
Song: You Learn
Artist: Alanis Morissette
Album: Jagged Little Pill
Release Date: 1995
Yes lady! Show up for your healing!
ALL of this! Yes ma’am. Chase that consistency babe!