Stepping Lighter

Yesterday, I read a newspaper article entitled, "Mental side a big factor for athletes."    It caught my eye because I've been thinking about revealing some of the mental games I do to keep myself going when I'm exercising.

It's not always easy when you are already sweating like a horse and your ankles hurt and you know you have thirty-seven minutes left. IF, you don't quit early.

The article actually turned out not to be about that.  It was about what makes Olympic athletes "choke" during an event and mess up, instead of doing it perfectly, like they have one thousand and one other times, which is why they--and not I--were selected to be in the Olympics in the first place.

I never choke.  I never do anything really tricky, just laborious.  So, the article really wasn't about what I thought it would be about at all.  But that doesn't have to stop me from blogging my thoughts about the mental side being a big factor.

I would never be in the Olympics, because, for one thing, my event would be called the "Old Lady Crawl," and it would be more boring to watch than golf.

It's even boring to DO, which is why I have to play mental games.

I would also never be in the Olympics, because I don't like to be watched when I'm exercising.  I used to see a ninety-nine-year-old woman who curled her burgundy-dyed hair and put on full makeup and a velour gym suit in order to walk very slowly on the treadmill, her large old-lady purse banging against her hip as she went.
That is not me.

All I do with my hair before I hit the gym is clip it up out of my eyes.  I don't need sweat dripping in them.  I never put on makeup--that would be ridiculous.  After rolling out of bed, I just swish some mouthwash so that I'm not other-than-visually offensive, put on my plain old exercise clothes, and dash out the door.

And then I sweat.  Hard.  By the time I'm done, I really hope no one is looking at me at all.

Apparently, that is not always the case.

This morning, shortly after I stepped up onto the treadmill for my run, the man on the right of me, whom I had barely noticed was there, came around to stand on the treadmill to the left of me.  That seemed odd, so I looked at him.  He was an older man, probably in his late sixties or seventies.  I don't remember ever having seen him before.  "Don't you usually work out on that machine up there?" he asked, shrugging off in another direction.

"Yes," I said, "but on Saturdays I run."

He kept looking at me, so I explained further.  "Sometimes when you're on vacation, running is the only thing you can do, so I like to keep up my running skills."

He kept looking.

"One time on vacation, I ran, and I couldn't walk the next day, so I decided to run once a week."  Why was I telling this man all of that?  I stopped myself before I told him that I had to run on Saturdays, because I'm such a slow runner that that is the only day I have time enough to do any significant mileage.  It was, after all, none of his business.

"Well, you really know how to work that machine," he said.

I laughed.  "I don't want to be fat," I said.  And I almost said that that was really all there was to it.  But then I realized that wasn't true.  My vanity may have gotten me started, but it really has become about my health.

"I want to be fit.  I have little kids that I have to stay around for."

"You're my hero!" he burst out.

I laughed again.

"When I wake up in the mornings, and I don't feel like coming to the gym, I tell myself, 'No, that lady is there every single day.'  You're my motivation."

I thanked him warmly, and he left.

Next time I see him, I will try to notice him.  I will remember my manners and ask his name.  And I will tell him that I needed his comment as much as he needs my example.  Not to get me up in the morning--I've mastered getting to the gym without having to battle myself.  But knowing that I could be an influence for good on someone, even while doing my most mundane routines, helps me to keep going in other ways.

Isn't it great that we can all help each other?

I try to be someone influential.  I am happy to see that people are reading this blog in Russia, China, India, France, Germany, Indonesia, and other countries.  I have no idea who they are, but I am happy to think that my reaching out with what I have to give could be appreciated widely.

My heart was warmed by his comments.  The next mile or so was really easy to run.

That's what we're all here for, I think--to make each other's step a little lighter.