Pretty sunrise from this morning. It’s stuff like this which makes waking up at 4.10 a.m. somewhat worth it. Plus I’m using it here because I have full rights to do so. Yay, free content.
The last time I posted was in October.
I can write well, but I can’t write consistently.
There is a deficiency in my motivation.
This is fine. Welcome to a new year.
+++
Clichés exist because they are based upon reality.
The “New Year Resolution Gym Rush” is a popular one this time every year. It’s the fodder for memes, silly YouTube videos, and hack comedy routines.
These people (commonly known as “Resolutioners”) can gum up one’s daily routine. Fortunately for me, there is very little impact in my day-to-day. I get to the gym at 5 a.m. when it opens. By the time it’s 6.30 a.m., I leave to go jogging.
Even so, I’ve noticed an uptick of activity—even among regulars. I’m a people watcher by nature. You notice these things.
The gym is a great place for people watchers because they are full of people to watch. And I don’t know about others, but I develop my own nicknames for regulars. I’m sure I’m not the only one and I wonder if I’m “Weird Bald Adidas Man” in someone else’s Rolodex.
A few examples:
There’s “Shrek,” a guy who looks like Shrek and bogarts the one leg extension machine.
“Swole Aunty” is a woman in her 60s who wears the clothes that someone’s aunt wears to company while using the cable machine.
“Did Someone Fart?” is a girl who with an affect of some someone who smelled someone’s gas and is continually disgusted.
Et al.
Of course, I don’t go up to Shrek and say “Yo, Fiona’s calling you from the cardio section, can I work-in?” The gym has its own rules and politeness is a key virtue. And just like anyone else there, I’m there to do my thing and then leave. But humans are visual creatures and one cannot help but notice one’s fellow gym rats.
The Resolutioners provide some cartoonish examples of what not to do. I’ve seen more than a few people fall off a treadmill…which can be hysterically funny. Some guys curl 20 pound weights on a weight bench, growling as if they climaxed in their shorts. Others wander through the gym with a 50-yard-stare, completely overwhelmed, staring at people’s butts. By February, most have gone.
I’ve become pretty good at figuring out which of the Resolutioners are going to graduate to Regulars. This morning, I made a wager with myself.
I started seeing this middle-aged dude last week. He wears geek couture t-shirts and spends his time in machine land. His fandoms are Star Wars, Pink Floyd, and old-school Nintendo. He’s still awkward.
My bet: This guy is going to be a regular. I can’t completely quantify it. But I think I’m right.
He has a look of someone who has Had It® with the way things are and he wants to improve things. I’ve noticed he keeps a notebook and writes down stuff throughout his workout. Perhaps he’s checked out Nerd Fitness and picked up some tips.
I’ve seen him every time I’ve been there the past two weeks, so I’m assuming he’s already gone through Suck Week. When you’re middle-aged, that first week is a killer. And I’m rooting for him, legitimately. I hope I see him there every morning throughout the year.
Maybe if I feel friendly, I’ll say hi. I’m getting better at that. I’ve made friends with the front desk woman. She plays Pat Metheny loudly. Great person.
I know it’s easy for some to goof and hate upon the Resolutioner wave. They’re easy targets.
But I’m a nerd. And if anything, nerds who had a rough go of it don’t forget a damn thing. I was continually hit in the back in the head and called all sorts of charming names. I played the clarinet. I went to stamp club.
Fun fact: If you want me to punch you cold in the face, hit me in the back of the head and see what happens. It won’t end well.
I despised the Presidential Physical Fitness Test. I felt like I was going to cough up blood when we had to run in the gym. I was treated like a pariah because I couldn’t throw a ball far.
Meanwhile, the fat stubby gym teachers who haven’t seen their genitalia since 1982 are standing around shouting “KEEP RUNNING!” Those who can’t do, teach. Those who can’t teach and are in awful physical repair, teach Phys Ed.
With that context, if you told 1988 John J. O’Sullivan that he would eventually become a gym rat, I’d have laughed in your face. I was a nerd—I am still a nerd. My RaspberryPi projects out my hidden geek nature.
Gym was the bane of my existence. And now I pay to go to Phys Ed—happily. I’m the most improbable fitness influencer ever.
Shit happens.
+++
This is fine. Welcome to a new year.
A new opportunity for growth.
Deficiencies are meant to be overcame.
I can write well, if I desire it, I can write consistently.
Positive change can occur no matter what.
Resolutioners…please become Regulars. I’m rooting for you. Root for me too.
The thing is -- why are you writing? What are you writing for? Who are you writing for?
In my own case, I'm actually writing for myself, 20 years from now. Oh look, there's me from 20 years ago: https://meep.livejournal.com/339550.html
You know Bree Newsome, the activist? That's her dad. Huh.
Anyway, the reason these things fall off in terms of getting done, usually, is that you don't really feel a burning desire to say anything. (Okay, the 2003 thing was actually intended to be ephemeral, but that was interesting) My long pieces tend to be on mortality and public finance, as those are long-term trends I really care about, and if I want to capture what's going on, I need to write it down. And then I read it years later. Some other people read it, too, along the way.
Same for your transformation -- I've watched it happening, slowly, over the years, and writing it down can help you remember the process. If nothing else, write for yourself.
[SHIA LABOEUOEUOUF VOICE]
DO IT