New Year’s Resolutions

I really enjoy going to the gym.  Working out is not only something I do to physically stay in shape, but regular exercise keeps me in good mental shape as well.  For the last twenty years, going to the gym has been a great stress reliever for me.  During this time of year, however, my exercise routine can be more stressful than relaxing.  Most days, I usually have to wait to go to the gym until after work.  (Honestly, I don’t want to get up at 4 am just to exercise—don’t judge me!)  Now, I typically get to the gym around 6:15 pm when the parking lot is full.  (It always surprises me how many people who go to the gym fight to get a parking space right in front of the door.  This seems somewhat counterproductive.)  By the time I get to the gym, I have to park on the far side of the lot and walk in the dark and the cold to the entrance.  When I walk into the warm steaminess of the gym, it is already crowded with people sweating, grunting, and, sometimes, complaining.  (Okay, that’s usually me!)  My regular workout routine is continually interrupted.  I can’t exercises on the machines I need or I have to wait in line for a cycle.  I also tend to be a bit of a klutz.  I have dropped weights on my feet, tripped over benches, and rolled off the treadmill with a gym-full of people watching me.

But all of these situations don’t discourage me from working out.  First, I need to be thankful for being healthy and strong, even on days when my workout has been disturbed.  Besides, and I hate to be so negative, but this is the simple truth: this jam-packed gym situation doesn’t last long.  Most of the people who joined the gym around the first of the year are there because they have made resolutions to lose weight and get in shape.  In the twenty or so years I have been working out, the gym always gets crowded around the beginning of January but is empty again by the time spring blooms.

It’s sad that so many people don’t fulfill their New Year’s resolutions, but I don’t blame them.  I don’t think weight goals go unresolved because people are weak or lazy.  They aren’t quitters.  This is a situation that can happen to anyone no matter what his or her resolution may have been.  People set big goals for themselves every year.  It can be hard, though, to break old habits and start new routines, especially when life gets in the way.  So many times, good intentions are put aside due to family emergencies, work demands, and monetary troubles.

And, honestly, I know that I am no better.  I may have made a solid commitment to the gym, but I struggle when I set arbitrary goals.  I know that I will only disappoint myself in the end.  I stopped making resolutions when I realized that a lot of goals I was setting were based on what I thought other people wanted from me.  Or what other people thought I needed to be.  That was probably why I couldn’t commit to any resolution.

And as I looked around the gym today, I wondered if that was the reason most people were here.  Were they actually here based on their own desire to be healthy or were they at the gym trying to lose weight based on society standards?  How many people are motivated to go to the gym because they have been bullied or teased about the way they look?  Were they concerned about their health or did they feel unloved because of their bodies?  Is that why they can’t commit?

Maybe this just isn’t a good time to join a gym.  That’s another strange thing about setting goals.  Timing is everything.  Maybe people leave the gym in the spring because it just isn’t a good time to achieve that particular weight loss goal.  And that’s okay, because time is an illusion anyway.  Time is a man-made tool so what does it matter if people accomplish a goal in one year or ten?

So no there is just one promise I commit to every year.  Each year, I try to spend more time with God.  I believe that if I pray more, if I concentrate on my faith more, than all other aspects of my life will fall into place.  I don’t worry about breaking this resolution, because every year, my faith has just grown stronger and I find myself praying more now than I have ever before.  It’s amazing how much easier this particular “goal” gets every year.

So now, I wish everyone the best in fulfilling any goals they may have set and hope that no one feels bad if they aren’t 100% perfect.  Just pray, believe, keep trying, do the things you enjoy, and above all, just resolve to love yourself no matter what the outcome…there’s always next year…or the next life…or whenever the time is right!

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Opinions

So one day I was at the gym and I had just gotten on the exercise bike.  I was pedaling away mindlessly as I read my paperback book.  Suddenly, a young boy sat down on the bike next to me.  He looked to be only 12 or 13-years-old.  The boy began to pedal and then I heard him say, “Hey, how do you program this thing?”  I smiled and put my book down.  As I leaned over to help him, though, I suddenly smelled this horrible, putrid, body odor.

Oh, my gosh, I thought, this poor boy.  The smell was horrendous.  I tried to compose my face into a smooth smile as I showed him how to set the controls.  As I bit my lower lip to stop my eyes from watering, my mind was reminding me, “He’s a little kid.  He’s just a kid.  Don’t say anything.  Don’t hurt his feelings.”  I set the controls for the boy and then moved away.  I sat up straight on my own bike and tried to focus on my book.

“Hey,” the boy said again, “how do I get it to go faster?”  I leaned over again and tried to stop my hands from immediately covering my nose. I sniffed helplessly a few times.  My mind started to chant, “He’s just a kid.  He’s just a kid.  Be kind.  Be kind.”  I forced a smile as I helped him set the speed level on the bike and then moved gratefully away.

Suddenly, the boy hopped off the bike.  As he was walking away, he looked back over his shoulder and stated, “Well, that smell couldn’t be me. I showered this morning.”  I stared at the boy as he walked out of the cardio area.

Wait a minute!  Did that boy just tell me I smell bad….Well, the little…

I sat on my bike pedaling in stunned silence as I thought about the boy’s words.  Even though the smell had faded away, I became a little paranoid.  That’s not me.  I’m sure it isn’t me…is it me?  I took several deep breaths but didn’t smell anything.  However, I was suddenly a little fearful.

I got off of the bike, ran back to the locker room, stripped out of my gym clothes, and immediately stood underneath the shower spray.  Of course, that smell wasn’t me…I had showered that morning, too.  And yet, I was amazed that the boy’s words could have such an effect on me.  As I squeezed soap out of the dispenser hanging on the wall and scrubbed away at my skin, my mind began to spin.  Why was I accepting the boy’s words as the truth, even though I knew that I was clean?  And yet I suddenly didn’t feel so fresh.

I sighed heavily as I reminded myself again.  “He’s just a kid.  He’s just a kid.”  His words meant nothing.  But they said everything.

Though there are times that I say awkward things, I always try hard to sidestep other people’s feelings.  Why do I feel sometimes, though, that my feelings get stomped on? But is that really true…or do I just allow other people’s opinions to affect me more than I should?  Why would I ever allow someone else’s words, especially the words of a young boy, make me feel that there was something wrong or unacceptable about me?  What does it matter if people make nasty comments at me or share cruel opinions?  Isn’t it more important how I see myself?  I knew I was clean and decent.  I know I try to be a good person.  Why would I ever let someone else’s words hurt me?  The boy had nothing to do with my response to his remarks.  That had been entirely my choice.

People are always going to say nasty things.  They will criticize my hair, so I get it cut.  Then they will criticize my weight, so I diet.  Then they will criticize my clothes….when does it stop?  It stops only when I choose not to listen or respond anymore.  That’s just how people are.  What people say to me isn’t about me; it’s about them.  It’s about their insecurities.  I realize that I really am just a reflection of how people see themselves.  People may praise me.  People may insult me.  Which words I accept, though, are completely up to me.

…And that’s when I suddenly realized something.  That poor kid.  Was he being laughed at, ridiculed for his situation?  Did he need someone to carry his shame for him for a while? I was suddenly pleased that I was there to share his burden with him for just a moment.

As I got out of the shower and wrapped myself in a towel, I started to laugh.  I was over the initial shock of the situation and found the whole incident hysterical.  Oh, my gosh, that funny little boy.  I finished drying myself off and slowly got dressed. I felt good.  I felt happy.

I smiled now about the boy who had taught me so much. The boy was just so insecure.  I prayed that someone was taking care of him and teaching him to take care of himself.  I hoped that he would soon learn to create his armor and protect himself from the unkind words of other people.

I finished getting dressed and then walked out of the gym.  I smiled deeply.  I was feeling happy, hopeful…and deeply cleansed.

Muscle Bound Dreams

One of the trainers threw me out of the gym one day.  “You can’t be here every day and work out as hard as you do,” she told me.  “Your muscles need time to rest.  Go home…go now..you can’t work out today.”

Well, it is true…I am an official gym rat.  I love going to the gym.  I am at the gym at least 2 hours a day five days a week.  Not only do I like to stay toned, strong, and healthy, but the gym is my stress reliever. When I finish my workout, I always feel emotionally better and completely at peace.  Well, most of the time I do.  I admit there are days when I am at the gym and feeling grumpy.  My crankiness is the result of encountering oversized, overbearing “he-men.”

“He-men” are the insanely-muscled, large men who have biceps the size of my waist.  Their calf muscles are twice the size of one of my thighs.   They are the athletes, the sportsmen, the professional players who live by the impulses of their bodies instead of their brains.

Though I am small and somewhat uncoordinated, I’m comfortable working out in the same gym with the “he-men.”  I’m not intimidated in that way.  However, I get angry when they don’t clean up after themselves.  It makes me mad when they don’t put away their weights when they finish with a machine.  I also hate it when they are circuit training and I accidentally stumble into their path, using machines they claim they were using even though they had been on the other side of the gym.  Several of the men have chased me right off the machines.  Though it is upsetting, I don’t let it bother me and I return to the gym the next day, prime and ready for the next workout.

This morning I was at the gym again.  Sundays are usually quiet and I can exercise without any interruptions.  But this Sunday was different.  I had just sat down and adjusted the weights at the shoulder press machine when a young, heavily-muscled man walked up beside me.  I started my exercises as I watched him draw closer.  Oh, no, is he going to tell me to get off the machine?  He probably was in the middle of some circuit training and, once again, I was on a machine that was supposedly already in use.

As I finished my first set, I watched the man out of the corner of my eye.  He suddenly stopped walking and stood about 3 feet to the side of my machine.  Was he trying to intimidate me to leave?  I glanced shyly over at the man.  Oh, gosh, I thought, he is so much bigger than I am!  The man was about six feet tall with short dark hair, extremely broad shoulders and well muscled arms and legs.  I couldn’t see his face…and suddenly I realized that the man wasn’t even looking at me.  Instead, he was staring up at the TV monitor that was hanging from the ceiling beams right in front of the shoulder press machine.

I glanced up at the TV.  The Sunday edition of Good Morning, America was silently playing on the monitor.  With the sound turned off, I couldn’t exactly figure out what this segment was about, but images of Spiderman leaping off of tall buildings and fighting “baddies” was playing across the screen.  I leaned forward in my seat and then looked back at the muscle man who was still standing beside me.  I swear the man was totally mesmerized by the images on the screen.  He stood beside me with his muscled arms crossed over his large chest and a huge silly grin on his suddenly boyish face.

I bit my tongue to keep from laughing.  Why do Superheroes and Star Wars turn every grown man into an 8-year-old boy?  I am not being sarcastic.  Instead, I ask the question with complete fascination.  This man’s obvious enjoyment of seeing Spiderman was honest, pure, and very touching.  I looked around the gym then at all the muscle men working out around me and suddenly smiled at the little boys they must have been.  All these grown men were once little boys who played war games and dreamed of being superheroes.  For the first time, I suddenly saw beyond the muscles and witnessed the hopes and dreams of the little boys within.  Suddenly, they weren’t “he-men,” but flesh and blood human beings with endless desires and aspirations.  As I watched them work out their muscles, I realized that some of their goals will be realized and others, like becoming Spiderman, will be locked somewhere in the imaginary “what if” section of their minds.

I was so grateful that this beautiful young man, and all the men at the gym today, reminded me how important it is to unlock that “what if” section and let the child within out to play.  I watched the men around me working out and realized how important it was to hold on to childhood dreams.   I thought about the reality of crushed dreams when things don’t always work out the way we planned.  These men are never going to be Spiderman, and I will never become Barbie.  But in the comprehension of childhood dreams, we find our humanity.  I watched these young men around me and witnessed their dreams with every grunt, breath, and lift of the weights.  They were setting goals and displaying enormous discipline….and who’s to say which dreams will come true.

I looked up at the man beside me as the segment ended.  He turned and shyly smiled at me before walking away.  I finished working out with the heavy weights.  My muscles felt tight and strong, but my heart had grown incredibly light.