SOMETHING TO LOOK FORWARD TO
The Way I Did it.
I listened to an audiobook.
“Go to the gym and lift weights!” That’s the advice from every podcast and all the wellness articles I’ve been reading lately. Apparently, everyone agrees that lifting weights is especially important for women over fifty. I’d been circling around the idea and coming up with ways to avoid it. I could use hand weights and stretch bands at home. Better yet, I could unbury my husband’s Olympic weight bench, which has been covered with boxes and clothes for months—not to mention, I have a drawer full of workout videos!
But I didn’t do any of that.
In the spirit of my Expeditionvision—I forced myself to go to the gym. And I hated it.
My foray back to the gym included an RFID bracelet, as well keeping well clear of a skinny old dude with long hair. He too must have heard the urgent call to “lift weights.” He wears a perpetually lost expression on his face that suggests he’s new to this. There’s also a lady who doesn’t understand the concept of moving in a clockwise direction through the machines when circuit training.
This comedy is set to a soundtrack that must be the whim of a staff of rotating burnouts and teenagers—whoever is on duty at the time. I can just see them laughing behind the curtain at all the old people moving like robots from the leg press to the lat pulldown to the tune of Highway to Hell by AC/DC, alternating with Don’t Waste My Time by Zilo.
You feel me?
And there’s also this weird idea that every person has to use a dripping wet sanitizing wipe to soak each machine when they’re done. By the third machine, my butt and back are wet, and not because I’m sweating! Does that sound like anything anyone would want to do? Not to me, it doesn’t.
I used to love going to the gym. I taught step aerobics in the ‘90s, for heaven’s sake! Remember wearing leotards with tights and leg warmers? Every outfit was finished off with a matching headband and white high-top sneakers. That outfit was my jam. And I looked good. I had a big yellow Jambox with a shoulder strap that I carried into class. It had two tape decks. One for the warm-up and cool-down, and one with pop music for the dancercise part of the class. That was when going to the gym was fun!
Not like my current gym experience. But I have to admit that after six weeks of forcing myself through those doors … and equating the experience with being a prisoner on a chain gang … I’ve noticed that I am feeling a little stronger, and the computerized strength test has me upping the weight. Well, that’s just enough to keep me going … most days. On the other days, especially if my workout partner flakes out, it’s easy not to go, and not going isn’t like me. I’m usually pretty good at doing things just because I know they are good for me.
Then came the epiphany.
I was struggling to find time to read my book club’s book of the month, so I downloaded the audio version and was enjoying listening to it. Rather than putting on my gym ID bracelet as if it were a handcuff, I slapped on my headphones and grabbed a thick terry towel. Today, I was excited … even eager … to get to the gym and find out “who done it.”
The way I did it. Something to look forward to.
This is part of what I’m calling Expeditionvision—my quest to find what a meaningful life looks like. One experiment per week: Possible strategies for a happier life. Trying things on purpose and paying attention to what happens. I’m not offering advice or giving instructions. I’m just sharing the way I did it. If there’s something that you’ve been wanting to try—but haven’t—I’d love to hear about it. I’m open to reader suggestions for future experiments.
Field Notes: For Paid Subscribers
Paid subscribers, I’ve added a short field notes section below with what surprised me the most, what I didn’t expect, what I might do next time, plus things I’m still working on.