Motivate Me #2

Well, here it is Monday night--almost midnight.  Did I work out today?  No.  But I did follow through with Friday's workout schedule.  Tomorrow's schedule will be the same for me.  30 minutes of cardio followed by 100 squats and 100+ crunches, with some good stretching to cool down.  I thought of you, whoever you are, you invisible, quasi-existent workout partner, when I sucked air through my 100 squats.  I could only do a rep of 20 before stopping to catch my breath and walk out the burn.  A couple of times, I tried to be cool as I wobbled over to the equipment rack so I could grab it for balance to stop myself from passing out.

Being almost forty brings a different kind of confidence than I had when I was younger.  I'm not sure there's a word to describe the transformation.  Some might call it security; others--denial, and others still--apathy.  I'd like to think I'm growing older gracefully, and while it is disheartening to swear I woke up today with one more gray hair than I had yesterday, and a few more wrinkles, ultimately, I find a sense of comfort in getting older.  However, going to the gym can test this contentedness.  Yes, there are people of all shapes and sizes, and true beauty lies deeper than one's skin, etc., etc.  But I'm at the gym, admittedly to get healthier, ok, but also to feel better about how I look.  When I was a younger, vainer version of myself,  I used to find some pride in the thought that guys at the gym were looking at me because I was attractive--until one time I passed a handsome, sweaty, stationary bicyclist who was really staring.  I mean, he thought I was gorgeous!  I stood up a little straighter and walked a little taller, all the way into the locker room, past the benches, past the bathroom stalls, and into the mirrored area, where I could see myself in all my glory, only to discover that my mascara had transferred from my lashes to my brow bones in greasy, black streaks.  I looked like I was wearing black striped eye-shadow.  Nobody can pull that off.  I looked freakish.   It was quite a humbling experience.  Now, I check myself out frequently on the workout floor so I can prevent the potential all-day make-up horror show that so quickly becomes me when I'm not looking.  Is that confidence?!  Temporary embarrassment aside, at the end of the day, figuratively speaking, I really don't care whether I'm put together perfectly.  Make-up smears, hair falls, and there's nobody looking at me but myself.  And age catches us no matter how fast we are, no matter how determined we are to outrun it.  We are zebras in the wild, striped eyeshadow or not, and age is the king of the Serengeti.  All we can do is graze the plains gracefully until our time is up.  And that is why I must squat!

So, tomorrow, my fellow zebras, let us run like the wind and may a quest for grace be our song, for the lion will sooner catch us if we rest too long.