Cycling a sweat

I’ll be honest, I have never been the most fit person.  When it comes to working out, I usually go on the treadmill till I shed one little tear of sweat and then I’m done.  That is usually how I “work out”.  Coming back to California, my dad signed me up at the YMCA to do some classes with him to get fit.

The first class we took was a stationary cycling class. When he first told me that we were going to do cycling, I thought to myself, “this will be easy money because I know how to ride a bike”, but I was dead wrong.  I got into the class all high and mighty with six other women and my dad.  I thought to myself, “all these women are twice the age as me maybe even more and that this class was going to be easy”.  I was so wrong, as soon as I started peddling I knew I was in for it.

There were bursts of sprints where I would have to maintain a certain RPM (rolls per minute) and tapping where I would have to increase the pressure to make the peddling harder.  I’m not going to lie, but the struggle was so real.  I could not even keep up with these older ladies at all. They were all going like an average of 80 RPM and I was only could maintain an average of 60 RPM.  I’ve never felt so defeated in my entire life (well what I’ve lived so far).

By the end of the 45 minute class, I was literally dead. I looked so disgusting with sweat dripping down my face and stinging my eyes.  I had sweat so much that someone could probably fill a bucket.  My legs were wobbly and I could barely walk back to the car, let alone the stairs I had to climb too.  The rest of the people in the class looked liked they finished effortlessly.   By the end of it I felt so nauseous, and felt like I was going to throw up despite drinking water the whole time and having an empty stomach.

Lessons learned from this workout is that sometimes things aren’t always as easy as they appear to be and not to judge others just on age.  I know for sure that what I thought was “working out” before was definitely not “working”.

“Things are not always what they seem; the first appearance deceives many; the intelligence of a few perceives what has been carefully hidden.”- Phaedrus

 

Are you okay?

When someone is not feeling well, I always wondered why we ask the question of “are you okay?”.  Obviously when we ask that question, the people we are saying it to is not okay and that question just points it out even more that they are not fine.  We obviously know that they are sulking, crying, or complaining for a reason.  So why do we keep asking that same question?

I believe we keep asking the same question because we are curious to know what happened.  We like to know the drama of life and the hardships that come with it.  Although thats a pessimistic viewpoint, it is true to some point that we like to meddle into other people’s business to know what is going on.  It is usually for our selfish reasons that we want to know what happened.  Most of the times we ask that question, not to comfort that person, but to satiate our curiosity.  People might disagree with me, and say that I am wrong; however, this is just my opinion that if someone really wanted to help they would ask a different question.

The first question that we should be asking is, “what can I do to help you feel better?”.  In this sense, we would be more straight forward than digging deeper into their wounds by asking that question of “are you okay?”, which leads to more questions to satisfy our curiosity.  If people do not want to respond, then just leave them be they just need some air.  If people want others to know, they will eventually open up.

I’m not saying that I am the perfect being, and that everyone else is flawed.  I have been guilty of asking that one question of “are you okay” to feed my curiosity, but I realized it is not really my place to be there stuck in the middle of another person’s problem.  It is more selfish of me to be the person who wants to know everything, than to be actually concerned with trying to make a friend feel better.

“I’m not in the business of meddling with people’s destinies – and yes, my characters are real people to me. They have histories and thoughts and yearnings and hurts and misgivings and pleasures that don’t belong to me.” -Jonathan Evison

One lonely alone loner

My greatest fear is being alone.  The word “alone” sends a chill down my spine.  Let me break down the word “alone”.  I know that “a” is the first letter of the alphabet so I would list it as the number “1” when counting the alphabet.  The word “lone” means solitary, unaccompanied, and isolated.  Also the “lone” has the word “one” in it.  What I’m trying to say, usually the word “one” or the number “1” is singular meaning there is no one that is going to be there, but that one person.

For me personally, during my elementary days I was very lonely.  I didn’t really fit in with any type of crowd and it was hard to make reliable friends.  It’s not that I didn’t have friends, but the people that I made friends with were not always that kind.  I found myself realizing that after my so-called “friends” had burned me too many times that I was tired of being their friend and wanted to move on, but I did not want to be alone.

Moving to my middle school days, I found myself switching groups every so often. In those years I found myself in a middle school crush relationship that filled my little lonely heart, till that ended (painfully).  Then of course like every heartbroken teenager, trapped myself in a room to be lonely (which so happened to be my science teachers room during lunch breaks).  Broken-hearted, I knew I had to move on from some stupid crush I had on a guy knowing that “there’s plenty of fish in the sea”.

High School went by pretty fast.  I broke off a lot of friendships that I was tired of wasting time on, and found new friendships.  I realized that hanging with boys was less dramatic than hanging with girls (not saying that every friendship is like that, but mine was less dramatic).  Junior year was only year I got into a dramatic fight with the boys over nothing,  which was later resolved in the end, but left my junior year a little lonely.

Speaking a junior year and also senior year, I felt the loneliest then around prom time.  I know I sound like a bitter person for not liking prom because “oh no one asked me out”, but I’d like to point out that was not the problem.  It was more like, “oh wow look at all these girls being asked out by boys, oh how I wished to be asked out too”.  Who am I kidding, yes I am pretty bitter because I wanted at least one boy to ask me out in a cheesy way so I could post it on Facebook and brag about how cute we look together or some stuff like that.  I mean who doesn’t want to feel wanted, except for the people that don’t want to be wanted, but I mean that’s cool too.  Anyways prom people asking out other people hahaha (trying not to have a mental break down).  In the end, prom was just okay and not a magical night like how it is portrayed on Disney channel or some fairy tale.

It seems like I go on forever, but I promise this will end soon. Last but not least is my transition into adulthood.  Moving to Boston for college was life changing because I grew up in my little California bubble.  Everything was like starting from scratch. I found myself once again, a lonely loner for the first week which then turned out to be the whole first semester.  It wasn’t till the second semester really where I got to know a few people from my college and people from other colleges. I’ve traveled to New York with some of my good friends that I have made from college and it has really been a blast.

I’m not trying to look for pity or justify my fear of being a loner, but what I am trying to say in this whole thing here is that life is full of ups and downs. If there is a person that is a lonely alone loner and they don’t want to be, then they can always look at this and gain inspiration that all hope is not lost.  And in dark times, even if there is one person alone, there are plenty more out there that are just as lonely.

What a lovely surprise to finally discover how unlonely being alone can be” – Ellen Burstyn

 

 

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