in which witness is borne: birds, politics, fiction and critical art theory

step one

Tuesday, October 19, 2004
i went to my second aerobics class today. i found myself entering the crowded room and feeling out of place, like i didn't belong there. and it felt unlike most other athletic situations, where i feel out of place because i suck at whatever the particular activity is...i felt somehow that i was BETTER than all of these people, that this wasn't enough of a workout for moi.
i realized then that i needed to stay in the class, that i was out of my comfort zone and in danger of losing my soul, a little. does this make any sense? i was in danger of becoming, like, a GYM BUNNY. which is kind of laughable, actually. if ever there was a misplaced sense of superiority...
and then it was okay. i did the grapevine step, and the marching step, and the bicep curls, and it wasn't terribly strenuous, but i was there for ANOTHER REASON.
and finally i realized what it was: i was afraid i looked like my female relatives, all the ones with wide hips and short legs, and i needed the mirror to say it wasn't so.
but the drill sergeant pushed on, and i squeezed my butt extra hard to emphasize the point to myself: i PROBably WILL look LIKE those WOMen. And you know what? THat's FINE. it's FINE for me to look like my own version of my mom and her sisters. Because i AM them. i am not better, or different, or somehow special in relation to them. i hope i can read this later on and accept it again the way i do right now.
3:33 PM :: ::
Post a Comment
<< Home

mar-mar :: permalink