Therapy in Motion

I cannot work-out without my Ipod.  Every now and again I run out of juice in the battery in the middle of my workout and that's it.  I can't go on.  The only thing that  keeps me moving is the music.  I try to conceal the fact that I am actually moving my legs and body on the treadmill to the beat of whatever song is playing in my ear buds, lest anyone think I am actually having fun.

Remember that scene in the movie Saturday Night Fever where John Travolta's character is walking down the street swinging his paint can and strutting to the sound of some Bee Gee's tune.  Yeah, that scene.  That is me working out.  Every move is choreographed in my head, even if I am just walking really fast uphill on the treadmill, it is to a beat.  If a song comes on that is too slow or I am not feeling it, I skip ahead or back. 

Some nights or days, depending on when I go to the gym in my building, I am sometimes alone in there and that is when I can really enjoy my workout.  When I start my free weight routine in front of the mirrored wall, I intersperse my reps with a few dance moves that I learned taking jazz classes in my youth.  I feel just like I did back then, 16, limber, strong and so in touch with my body, it's like a feeling of complete wholeness, physical synchronicity - nirvana -just me and the music and the energy, not unlike sex actually.  Good sex. Really good sex.

Sometimes I think I missed my calling.  I wish I would have taken dance more seriously growing up.  I really feel in my element when I am immersed in movement and music. I get a similar high watching some forms of dance as well.  Watching an incredibly toned and muscled body moving in ways I could only dream of now - in time with some perfectly chosen musical composition can bring tears to my eyes. I am transported in that moment of sheer perfection to a place where time stands still and nothing else matters.  Hmmmm. That is sounding like sex again.  Good sex.  Really good sex.

So back to the work-out.  I know this was going somewhere.  At least I think it was.  I have also become uninhibited in the gym.  By this I mean, if I am on the treadmill and some music motivates me to break out into some boxing moves, I just let er rip.  The people around me likely think I am completely wacko but I don't give a shit.  It really ramps up my heart rate to be walking uphill fast and punching the air at the same time.  It may look a bit crazy, but it feels good and there is one song that just cries out to me every time to break out in that move, so I do.  If there is someone who has pissed me off that day, I even imagine I am punching them in the face and that is particularly good for any stress I may have on any given day.  If you have any anger issues, I highly recommend this move - try it - it really works well.  Better than alcohol or any other stimulant you may turn to - food, drugs, whatever - it's a real physical release.  Almost like sex. Really good sex.

And here is a wee confession.  Ever since I have been living alone again, well not quite alone, but more alone than I used to be, I dance alone alot in my condo.  I crank up the music and just dance and dance and dance while I look out at the world from my perch.  Sometimes fast, sometimes slow, sometimes controlled, sometimes out of control, whatever mood strikes me, that's what I do.  It feels AWESOME.  I used to do a bit of it before in my house, but not nearly as often as I do it now.  Think Tom Cruise in Risky Business, but way more feminine and no pink shirt.  And speaking of feminine - I bet there are some exotic dancers out there that could take a lesson or two from me.  There, I said it.  I do that too.  Alone.  And look out if I have had a glass of wine - it gets really good.  (in my mind anyway!)  Kinda like sex.  Really good sex.

Self-expression. Take some time for it.  It's like sex.  Really good sex.

From what I remember anyway.