Wait, that's not entirely true. I guess I do have the body of a celeb.
When I first started working out, I bought a sweatshirt from Bally Total Fitness and I would wear it to school three times a week. In my fourth period Geography class, Justin Stephens looked at my sweatshirt and said "You don't go to the gym." And I said "Yes I do." And then he said "How come you aren't swole?"
How come I'm not swole, guys?!
In the beginning, the only exercise I did was the bench press. I think it's because I read in an issue of Men's Health that the bench press was the Ultimate Exercise because it activates your core and your abs and utilizes a lotta other muscles. I think now the title of Ultimate Exercise has gone to the squat? Or the hip abductor.
I did nothing but bench press and then, for a period of about ten months, I stopped. I wouldn't go near a bench unless I was playing intramural sports.
Out of nowhere, I developed a fear of bench pressing. There was no pectoral injury. No bad chest experience. No bench press trauma.
I just woke up one morning and thought "What if I finish a set and rack the bar and then the bar holders just break off and the bar comes crashing down onto my face and squishes my head and my brains and cerebrospinal fluids ooze out onto the bench and I die?"
And then I didn't bench press from February 17th, 2002 to December 22nd, 2002.
My pectoral muscles atrophied in that time, but at least my brain fluids didn't leak out.
I don't know where that fear came from. Normally, you can trace a fear back to its origin, some sort of traumatic experience. For a good part of my childhood, I was scared of dogs because I saw a Husky maul my sister's face. I have a fear of being trapped in trains or buses due to being stuck in one for a few hours when I was younger. I'm still afraid of closing my eyes in the shower because of this lady from Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark. (I didn't want to post the image on this blog because I still hate staring at her face and I'll probably have nightmares tonight because of it. Seriously, how the hell does THAT get published in a CHILDREN'S book?)
Most fears have a starting point. But this one didn't and I have no idea why I developed it or why it only lasted for a few months.
I had a similar experience with planes. Normally, I loved flying when I was growing up. Two hours to just sit and play my Game Boy without being bothered by anyone or having to share with my sisters? Sign me up. But, one day, I had a thought.
What if a squirrel hitched a ride on the wing and then it jumps into the turbine and then this plane just, like, explodes?
And then I didn't enjoy flying anymore.
These random, intrusive thoughts happen all the time. They're usually not strong enough to cause an irrational fear though. They're more like firecrackers, Roman Candles going off for a few seconds, distracting you from your current activity. I just had three intrusive thoughts in the span of a few seconds, actually.
I want an Oreo milkshake.
Is Ric Flair still alive?
If I could bleed any condiment, it'd be Sriracha.
None of those thoughts had anything to do with each other, and yet they all popped into my head in rapid succession.
Buddhism has a term for it. Monkey mind. It's as if the human mind is filled with drunken monkeys, jumping, screaming, yelling. Monkeys gettin' they swerve on and just causing a ruckus in your head, trying to grab your attention. Monkeys be all like "Turn down for what?"
It's especially a problem if you have anxiety issues. Anxiety is like a big fat gorilla, hopped up on Four Loko (before they changed it), smashing all of the tables and breaking all of the chairs in your mind. When that gorilla is acting up, it's all you can focus on.
Those fears probably came about because of my monkey mind, but they were cemented because of that gorilla.
I've taken up meditation in order to calm it down. Yesterday was actually my 100th straight day of meditation.
Not like 100 days STRAIGHT of meditation, but like, consecutive days. Whatever. You know what I mean.
It started with five minutes, then ten, then twenty and there was a brief week where I was meditating for an hour a day, but then I got busy at work and I wanted to do other things so I dropped it back down to twenty. I'm averaging between twenty to thirty minutes of meditation a day.
It's tough. You're supposed to focus on your breathing and ignore the thoughts that pop into your head. One of the books I read said to think of it as if you're sitting on a mountain and your thoughts are the clouds floating below. When I first started, I imagined myself sitting on a mountain, but I kept thinking about goats and avalanches and Yetis.
I've gotten better at it. I can do my time without checking my phone now. Before I'd check every so often and be upset that only thirty seconds had gone by.
It's not exactly an enjoyable experience, but it's like when you finally just give in to the fact that you have to eat your brocoli as a kid so you're like "Fuck it, whatever" and dip it in some ketchup and toss it in your face hole.
Has it helped?
I don't know. I think it has. I can't really say. I don't feel any different.
What if I'm just wasting my time? What if it doesn't help at all? What if it actually makes things worse for me? Like, what if those intrusive thoughts are what helps me be somewhat creative and when they quiet down, I'll suck at everything?
That previous paragraph is an example of monkey mind in action. If's and but's and candy and deeze nuts. Or whatever that saying is.
Meditation is all about being present. Anxiety is worrying about the future. Regret is worrying about the past.
And I'm still anxious and regretful, I guess. I think that's why I was never that great of an improvisor, actually. Tough for me to stay in the moment. Always thinking about what I should be doing or how I've fucked up already.
But I kinda feel that the chatter has died down a little. I can read for longer, if that means anything. Now I can go for like ten minutes without taking a break.
The monkeys are still partying. They're still drinking whiskey and making a mess, distracting me fairly often. But at least they're not doing Jägerbombs, you know? Maybe eventually I can get them to calm down and just drink a nice Merlot.
I was trying to figure out how to tie 'meditation' back to 'working out' without doing the whole 'meditation is like a work out for your MIND' thing, but I can't think of anything else to end this with so...
Meditation is like a work out for your MIND.
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