I've Put This Off For Far Too Long

Yes folks, it's time for a post about the gym. Over the last 9 months, my attendance at the gym has been somewhat religious. I'll give you the good things about the gym before I rip it a new one. The gym is a wonderful place to listen to new music you have recently purchased. I love that I have a solid 45 to 90 minutes to listen to music with (almost) no distraction. I love that everything is simple inside those doors. It's simply you vs. you. I'm weird: I use the push doors when I enter and use the automatic doors when I leave. It's not an OCD thing, I just feel like it's a little test. I'm not an angry person, but the gym gives me an excuse to grit my teeth and grimace. I love the endorphin rush. I love the feeling when I leave--that slow ache that seems to settle in my bones tells me that I won.

Now, on to the... other stuff. First, the music. Who really wants to hear recycled Beyonce and Britney Spears when you are trying to get pumped up? I'm pretty sure the only thing playing the Macarena will get me to do is leave. It's a good thing they don't let you cancel your contract because playing Call Me Maybe three times an hour might do it. Some people think I'm listening to my music loudly so no one talks to me, but it's really to drown out the latest pop star singing about how "wide awake" she is. That's cool. I just woke up an hour ago.

The drinking fountain is a persistent source of annoyance. Water-bottle guy I swear if you fill up your gigantic bottle in the higher of the two fountains one more time I will punch you in the ear. You realize that you are inconveniencing everyone who is taller than a Hobbit for the next three hours while you fill up, right? You are putting your "I'll drink it later" water needs above those who need a drink now. Use the shorter fountain. Trust me, your arms will reach. But even worse than than water-bottle guy is gallon-jug man. Are you really going to drink an entire gallon of water at the gym? Are you training your bladder as well? This isn't the Mojave Desert, I think you'll make it without your emergency preparedness kit.

OK Johnny Gym, I understand you've got a routine to do, but you can't do a circuit of ten machines during peak hours. It's funny because your chest looks like Arnold's but your legs look like Twiggy's. And your half-filled water bottle and dirty towel on the floor next to a machine is not an appropriate way to save your spot. I understand that you have an IQ smaller than your flat-brimmed hat size, but this isn't second grade, you don't get machine-backsies. And don't ask if you can jump in between my sets. The answer is no. I don't ask people on treadmills when they are done, I just wait my turn. I'm not going to ruin your pump if you have to use another machine first. If I wanted to be close enough to you to share sweat I'd ask for you to meet me in the sauna.

The locker room fills me with dread. Without fail I walk in and the first sight I am greeted by is the grisly visage of a naked, wrinkly old man. Listen, I get that in the barracks in boot camp before World War II you all walked around naked, but this is peace time. Time to start fighting the Cold War with a towel around your waist. Also, don't perform your entire morning routine in those sinks. I'd like to wash my hands without seeing your dried toothpaste, black hairs, and shaving cream. I don't know if anyone has told you, but that is what your bathroom at home is for. And just once I'd like to walk into the bathroom without one or more of the stalls being occupied by a dude taking a sit-down. If you are working out so hard you need to take a bathroom break, it's time to relax. It happens so much that I assume that this is what is happening, or else Gold's Gym is paying someone to make sure no one spends too much time in the locker room. Or perhaps it is the cheapest theft-deterrent they can find.

But the most redeeming thing about Gold's Gym in Orem is Zumba lady. Every gym has at least one. If you haven't personally witnessed her "unique" routine I would highly encourage you to join the gym just to see her. I'm glad you curled your hair before you came today--you are way more aerodynamic? I literally laughed out loud yesterday when I saw her. It was dangerous, I almost fell off the treadmill. She has headphones probably blaring Ricky Martin's greatest hits as she does her own routine in front of the mirrors. Classic.

It's a crappy photo but it gives you the idea.

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The Upside Of Unfairness

Personal tragedy has a way of tunneling our vision. Our feelings, though poignant and deep, may not always be reliable--especially the negative ones. External events that are out of our control beg us to ask the victim's question, "why me?" I have come to realize that that is a self-defeating question. You are setting yourself up to be a victim. And there is no answer to this question. At least not at first. There is no way to answer that question using reason or logic, because rational thought almost always wants us to understand the world in terms of fairness and equality. But the longer we live, the more we come to observe that fairness (the way we see it) is a pipe dream.

We don't understand what fairness is. I don't know where our lopsided notion of fairness comes from, but often, our idea of what is fair is anything but fair. We want constant happiness for ourselves at the expense of others. We selfishly think that we deserve only good things to happen to us. Too often in our lives, the only things that we label "unfair" are the negative ones. But how often do we think, "this just isn't fair!" when something good happens to us? In our egotistical, selfish mindset we think that when something good happens to us that we did something to deserve it. So according to us, all negative events are undeserved. I don't mean to suggest that all the trials in our life come as a result of something bad we did, or as punishment because of bad karma. I just think that we need to remember that good things are often undeserved too. Good things are sometimes unfair.

Rather than being depressed by this all-encompassing view of fairness, there is still hope. Emerging science suggests that only 10% of our overall happiness level is determined by the external events of our lives. The other 90% is made up mostly by how we choose to react and genetic factors.

This suggests that we never have to be victims of circumstance. We always have a choice. Always. External events, good or bad, can never take away our right to choose. Whether you see the ability to choose as a natural inherent human trait or a God-given attribute, nothing can violate that simple truth. Nothing anyone does can take away your ability to choose. Excluding extreme circumstances, when something outside our control happens, we essentially have the choice between three reactions: react negatively, react positively, or run away. (Although, running away or doing nothing are essentially negative choices because they will leave us woefully unprepared to deal with the next set of negative circumstances that will arise in our lives as a natural result of living in this imperfect world.)

We can either see ourselves as unfortunate victims of our lives and other people's choices, or we can make the choice to smile, be happy, and continue pressing forward. This is surely the harder way, but it will always be the better way. In church we call it agency; it is the ability to act as agents unto ourselves. Still it remains that we can either act or be acted upon. When we are acted upon, it is essentially a call to action.

You are not a victim of your life. Bad things happen sometimes. But they never take away your ability to choose how you will react. Never say, "I can't help the way I feel." That is a lie. I can say this because I have experienced what it's like to make the harder choice, and it works.

In the LDS world we say, "there must needs be an opposition in all things." And in the secular world they call it Newton's third law of motion. Whatever you decide to call it, by the simple fact that you exist, you will experience hardship. You can be sure of it. This is of necessity. You have to have dark to see light, taste the bitter to know the sweet, and feel terrible to know joy. Without opposition, life would be a sterile experience, devoid of... well... anything. So if some soul-crushing trial comes your way, take heart. For so it was with all the good people who have ever come before you. Put the 10% in its place and use your ability to choose to be happy. It won't happen overnight. You are allowed some time to wallow in self-pity. But don't make it a pattern, because you never know when you will experience the upside of unfairness.

[Keep Following. I know, I know... where are the funny posts? "Patience, precious. Patience..."]

Judgment

I had an interesting experience. I now work in the electronics section of Costco. I approached someone to answer his obvious questions about the hard drive he was staring down like a cow stares at an oncoming train. He then asked me if another employee that I work with was there. I replied that he was on break and that I was happy to answer his questions.

Somewhat reluctantly he asked me his question. After I answered, he then bombarded me with questions about all sorts of different things for the next forty minutes. When he was out of questions, he took a step back and regarded me from top to bottom. His next statement surprised me. "When you first came up, you looked like you would know more about athletics than electronics." I was slightly flustered at his candor. It's safe to say that it gave me some food for thought.

It's amazing how much we judge. We do it so much we don't even know how much we do it. I did it as well when I first approached him. And it made me realize that my choice of major in college also surprises people. It's funny that people equate physical prowess with a lack of higher brain function and creativity. As if I need to be skinny and nerdy to be creative. This was especially apparent when my teacher unexpectedly asked me to present my paper to my senior seminar class the other day. This was the college equivalent of the teacher reading the names aloud of the kids who got an A on the spelling quiz in first grade. As I read my thesis statement in a paper about false conceptions about love in LDS culture as made apparent in the movie Inception, I could almost hear my fellow classmates' opinion of me changing.

Now I don't say this to set myself up as a pariah or anything, it's just interesting. Because the opposite may also be true. As much as we categorize and label others negatively, the opposite also occurs. Too often, we are inclined to give others the benefit of the doubt. Especially when they appear to be so happy and "put together" or when they fit in with our prejudices. When in fact, often "in the quiet heart is hidden / sorrow that the eye can't see."

[Keep Following. Food for thought.]

Counter Steering

There are only two things that get you acquainted with the road: time or distance. Normally one would think that the two correspond, because the farther you go the more time you've spent on the road. And of course that's true, but when I say distance I'm not talking about miles traveled. I'm talking about inches to the ground.

There is something primal about riding a motorcycle. Man and machine and nature collide head-on. There are different rules on the road. Society comes with manners and norms and political correctness. But on the road all that is stripped away. When you rocket out of town on six hundred pounds of roaring steel there are no expectations. There is only the static crackle of the wind in your ears and the thump of each cylinder firing below you so loud it's almost deafening--and yet, you'll never hear something so serene. There is no judgment. There are no problems. There are no appointments. There are no urgent phone calls. There are no pressing duties. There is only gravity.

It's as if man has conquered those things that would hold him back. Nature has had its own laws turned on itself. Combustion is made possible by nature, and the only thing it can do to resist is pull at your clothes. But like a beaten man who owes a debt, paved-over nature becomes your greatest ally. With every tree and rock and mountain that streaks by, it rewards the rider by storing an ounce of stress; it keeps that stress in trust. For nature can't solve your problems all by itself, but it can hold them, even if for a moment. You can be sure they'll be waiting for you when you turn the key at the end of a ride, but when you do, you'll be ready to take up your cross again.

Something no one told me about buying a motorcycle was that it allows you entrance into a brotherhood. With each passing biker comes a little left-handed wave and a smirk of acknowledgment. There is someone else who knows what I know. And it might be modern man's greatest kept secret. Yet I'm not afraid to share it because most who read this will still never know what I know. They will make every excuse as to why they can't ride. And I'm sorry, but that is what makes riding even better. I like that I "get it."

Time or distance. Truckers have the time. They have spent days and weeks and months and years with the road. They know it like an old friend. It is there, a familiar companion that gives them financial support. But riding a motorcycle gets you acquainted with the road like a lover. Instead of feet above the ground in a truck, or separated by "quiet control" technology and an artificial atmosphere, on a bike it's just you and the naked asphalt--bare, no pretense, no boundaries. Just inches between you and death. For riders, the road isn't financial support, it's life support.    

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