working out
The Muse Letter No. 147
I watch my arms in the mirror, the outline of my muscles emerging and disappearing, as we lift the weights up and down and up and down. We’re standing on our toes, our knees bend, we are tucking our tail bones hard, bending forward slightly; while Kelis is telling us how her milkshake brings all the boys to the yard. I stare and I stare into the mirror watching my expression, watching my body, my muscles as they contract and release, doing another eight, another four, another two, and one: collapse.
Who is this woman in the mirror?
One year ago I started swimming. I bought a monthly membership to the local pool, I decided to commit to three times a week and then I just did that. I did not question my decision, I scheduled it and trusted that this would change everything. Like everyone on the internet I had read Atomic Habits over the lockdown years and I knew that in order to establish a new habit it has to be 1. easy 2. obvious 3. accessible 4. satisfying. So I put all the preconceived ideas on how I was not a person that works out, how I was not a gym girlie but the person voted last on the volleyball team aside. That working out was for these other people, these people who own cars, get jobs in offices and wake up for the morning commutes. All that non-sense went out the window.
I'm a hot girl, I do hot shit.1
That was my new motto. I swam when I felt anxious, angry, when I needed to pay the rent and I didn’t know how. When I had to look for a new flat and felt like the rug was being pulled from under me. I didn’t question my solution, I trusted the process instead. The swimming was going to work it out for me. Whenever my mind was racing, when a negative thought looped in my head, I entered the pool, immersed myself in the cool water and started my laps. For a while swimming was my answer to everything. It conveniently gave me a break from my phone and other distractions, it scheduled my hair washing days and I combined the walk to the gym with my grocery shopping.
If you take care of the small things, the big things take care of themselves.
And then I got ambitious.