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When I was in college, my roommate, Kristik, convinced me to go to the gym with him. I remember feeling scared. It was light, pale and gothic, with ox-blood on the lips and zero muscle tone. I was sure everyone would tell me that I was an Lycra borrower.
Reluctantly I got on his bike and started pedaling. The gym smelled of sulfur and boiled ham, but other than that, it wasn’t too bad. Actually, it was almost fun. I thought the point was to go as fast as I could, so I pedaled like a beast on the blurred legs of the cartoon.
Christ warned me to give myself a rhythm, but I felt good. I remember thinking: It’s my first time in a gym and I’m on fire! I’m going twice as fast as Kristi and she goes to the gym every day! Would we talk … Olympic material? After forty-five strong golden minutes, I slipped off the bike for the win.
But as I was walking to the water fountain, a curious thing happened: I noticed that my legs had turned to rubber. All the sounds in the gym suddenly went silent and before that, I slipped between the two bikes and went through the cold. They took me to my bedroom in an ambulance. In the face of my crush.
And that was it for me.
For years, I thought it belonged to Health Nuts: SoulCyclers, Vegans, Celery Juice Drinks, Run-Every-Day-No-Matter-What-ers. Health was owned by people like my friend Jamie, who was having a mental head while giving birth to her second child.
It’s good for him, I thought, and yahoo for those other people, but I didn’t inherit that gene. I fell further into the camp of those who dream of their next meal. And for those who love rainy days the pressure to go outside and do something fun … you can read all day and not feel guilty!
But somehow I got older and maybe I was a little wiser as my children and joints got more curly and when words like colonoscopy got into my vernacular, my health lenses started to change. Health didn’t necessarily mean Athletic. It did not mean the Perfect Body Mass Index. Either I had to eat the seeds or I had to stand on my head.
His health was much greater than that. Zen mind. It was a matter of being curious and attentive at that moment, of being aware of the world around you. On an afternoon walk, for example, you’ll discover how the last sunlight illuminates the leaves of the trees, shining the golden pendants of a costume. Or peeling a sweat-soaked breast and getting into a hot shower is how hard it feels to do hard yoga, even if shaken, after doing yoga. You’re giving yourself permission to close your eyes for 20 minutes a day, even if you’re busy. It’s brave to jump your head into a cold ocean. It’s about observing your ability to fill your lungs with air, realizing the gift of being alive.
It took me a long time to realize that these things were also for me, and not just out-of-nature adaptations.
I’m sure I’ll never go to the Tour de France race, and I can’t really expect anything that looks like a bike, but I’ve found that I’m pretty good on both my legs. Nowadays, I walk a lot, giving myself small goals and rewards. For example, I will walk three miles to the farmers market with fuzzy peaches. I will walk through the neighborhoods of my dogs to do the chores before I take the train. Last weekend, I went to a touristy street full of shops dressed in bright dresses that could be worn at the Oscars. Upon entering one, I was surprised to find myself grabbing a handful of dresses, each more unique than the next. The old self can distinguish mistakes by standing in front of a giant mirror. But for now I exploded, laughing at myself with my shoes on and my legs strong, even if they didn’t explode.
I have found that being healthier is happier and under my control.
Lisa Rubisch He began his career at MTV and now directs ads for major brands and music videos Pictures of the park New York. He has written other attempts For the Cup of Jo, among others one that made us cry.
PS How to be present and riding bicycles with babies.
(Photo by Alina Hvostikova / Stocksy.)
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