Missing the gym

Missing the gym

I miss the gym when I don’t go for a while.  The physical part of its huge, of course, but its the mental stuff that seems to count for more of what happens.  Perhaps it is the intimacy I feel in connecting to myself, to how my body physically connects to the world around me.  Sure I hit things too, but in order to do so, I have to own the space between me and the object which can be a powerful thing.

When I’m shadow boxing, it’s more gaining a sense of how the punches feel as I release them in relation to how my body moves through space.  Mostly it’s a kind of fluid dance, body moving through space to an inner rhythm of pop-pop, pop-pop-pop.  At other times, all I can think about is how silly it is to shadow box in front of a mirror.  When that happens it’s nothing but mind movies and perhaps losing focus for round after round.  And if it happens in the ring, my trainer will cuff me in the head and say, “wake-up, girl, wake-up, you’re dreaming.”

My gym time reminds me to wake-up when I’m in the world.  And if not, the cuff in the head might translate into a stubbed toe or a missed train or any of the myriad of things large and small that one misses when one doesn’t pay attention.  The funny part is as a parent, I’m the one who gets to say, “wake-up and pay attention” but the truth is, I’m really saying it to myself.

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