On Working Out

 At first, I can't figure out which one is better for my body: the stair-machine, the rowing machine, the stationary bicycle, or the ski-master (for lack of  a better expression). Or perhaps it's the lonely track at Mitchell Field Community Center that is most conducive to the body after a day sitting at a desk. I decide to try all of them in different capacities to see which one engages me the most. Surprisingly, it seems that the stationary bike has me the most hooked. And how do I know? It seems to give me the most sweat, particularly around my forehead and back. I suddenly swing back into my workout, and things seem less lonely than they were when I first worked out here in 2005.
    The workout is a kind of metaphor for lifting away from thoughts and into a realm of action, of doing and experiencing. It's never easy to get to that place to begin with. Three key reasons (or perhaps alibis), are : never enough time, not achieving much, and 'too many things to do'. And these reasons always relate to the stuff that's in the mind that never gets sorted out, such as the never ending round of worries, of spinning obsessions, of habitual ways of looking at the world, and so on. When I step on the bike, I suddenly realize that simply slipping my feet into the pedal-holds and rolling forward is not as hard as I had imagined. Only when I started on the bike could I find a reason for doing it: not before. The 'reason' if you could call it that, is simply in the acting itself; the process of feeling the body come to life in some way, of connecting with the body in a new way that feels alive. Ironically, the bike also spins endlessly, but unlike the thoughts, the bike induces  a feeling of release.
    I rarely think of exercise as an experience. Instead, I fall upon the usual scientific explanations for why people 'should' exercise--as though all bodies were somehow the same, or had the same requirements. If exercise could be seen more as a kind of experiment with human emotion, I wonder if people would be less intimidated by it. By 'experiment with emotion', I am referring to how exercise is a way to emerge away from thinking all the time and into a more embodied experience, whether it is lifting something or rowing, or simply walking in a circle. The embodiment creates an interesting mood, and that mood can be felt even in the simplest, repetitive motion or action.
    Another metaphor for working out is: not trying to figure things out before they happen. In the midst of the work of doing, the body can change as well as the emotions. But there is no way of predicting or bringing about (much less understanding) the process before it is being done. It seems obvious to say this, but how often do people say they will do something, only to find that they have already played it out in their heads without executing it in action? It's no wonder that thoughts can exhaust people even when their bodies are still!