I Went To The Gym.

For those that endured that last blog post, thanks for not unfollowing me because of it.
Though I have been used to my life on social media and the pattern of a minimal social life, I never really felt compelled to release so much of the frustration of it out into a blog until this past Saturday. Where I usually hover around 1000 words, that last post was 3000. Yeah, I’d say I was feeling something. I scheduled to publish it a day later because I wanted to give myself time to decide whether or not I really wanted to put it up. With my relatively new “feel what I feel and let it flow” mindset, and my love for being able to read back moments of my unfettered truth, I let it publish.


I read it back earlier tonight and didn’t necessarily regret any of it but it definitely portrays a rarely exhibited tone in my blog writing. I don’t like to bring out a “woe is me” tone. I don’t feel it necessary and I also think it reads as over-dramatic.

I would also like to note that I understand it seems that I was devaluing some of my friendships as if they weren’t enough. That wasn’t my intention. I value all my friendships. It’s just that sometimes it feels like I’m not sought after as a friend. I mentioned I don’t expect it and/or I do understand I’m not owed anything… and I actually typed in that post that “maybe it’s me”.

After reading that post again tonight in a clearer state of mind…

…I went to the gym.

I hopped on the treadmill and started slowly walking. I was re-reading certain statements of that blog in my mind while listening to my YouTube playlist called “Feel Good, Dance, and Basslines” (it’s public if you want to listen to it for yourself). It’s a bit easier to forgive myself for releasing my pent-up frustrations when I’m listening to a song like Teena Marie’s “It Must Be Magic”. With the use of the word “forgive”, it seems like I’m saying I was doing something “wrong” feeling the way I did… but rather it’s just an arm around my shoulders with an understanding statement of “It’s okay. You’re human.”.

I increased the speed and incline of the treadmill because I needed to work harder. I needed to feel more physical exertion and get some sweat going. Release the stress hormones.

Pent-up frustrations. I guess it’s rare of me to get frustrated enough to feel compelled to release those frustrations therapeutically, written or physically.

It doesn’t help to feel better when you search Twitter for the phrase “30-year-old virgin” and think you’re going to find any amount of people to relate to. That phrase is pretty much used as an insult. I tried not to let it get to me… but… put it on the stack and… boom – pent-up frustration.

I finally was feeling the treadmill work in my calves and my face was feeling warmer, starting to release sweat. I increased the speed.

Finally, I was starting to get over the blog post and get into this mindset of feeling like a warrior. Transform the energy!

The focus was less on comparing my perceived inadequacies with the rest of my friends and more on what I am and can be in the moments of “standing up” and taking action. I think so much better and clearer under pressure. I love it when I can ignite the fire in my soul like that. It makes me feel like I’m in control of myself and therefore can be a powerful influence on a situation if truly needed. In this case, my power is that I can endure higher resistance for longer times and increase my physical strength. It feels good to remind myself of what I am capable of.

Self-validation is the least you need but let’s be honest – I could feed my ego myself easily but I’d rather show and prove and have it be called appreciation from someone else. What am I working for in life if I am only of service to myself?

That’s actually the big idea I came to during my workout that sort of connects the things I typed about in that last blog post.

Connection. Consistency. Commitment.

I put that in there and I know the word “commitment” brings up ideas of marriage, which is a goal of mine, but in this case I’m using it just to solidify a decision in being a person for a person on the simple level of friendship. I love to feel like I am doing something for a person. I like to be supportive, or help out a situation, or be some kind of part of the reason someone comes to a better place in their life (because of my Jupiter in Pisces?).

I liked being on a music production team when I was having regular studio sessions. I liked being part of a the technical crew anytime I had a live event gig to work. It was behind the scenes but still important. The real show behind the “show”. This can interestingly enough tie into my want of authenticity. I wanted to be a musician and possibly a singer not for the fame or being the face but because words and melodies evoke emotions and THAT is the REAL magic of music. I would like to have that story of one of my fans expressing how something I created helped them through something emotional for them. Because I was strong enough mentally to take a moment of love or pain and create something someone else could relate to, they then have a healing moment themselves. It would be nice, right?

It’s hard to be of help when nobody wants to ask for it… so making something and putting it out there that somebody could happen upon is the next best thing.

Is it a savior complex? Maybe a little bit. Maybe I’m just an adult ready to provide something for someone. I typed that too that I might have clicked another hour on my biological clock.

I ended up being on that treadmill for a half an hour before moving on to some weight machines.

It’s weird how many people were at the gym at this time on a day before a work day. It didn’t seem right but… whatever.

Overall, I can’t be feeling down when wanting to lift others up. Also, to lift others up, I must be a bit stronger than I am now.

So that’s why I decided to stop feeling so bad about a moment of vulnerability…

…and I went to the gym.


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