Every Tuesday and Friday morning I work out with my personal trainer for an hour. I normally show up a few minutes early and warm up with a brisk walk on the treadmill and oh my god I just wrote the words “brisk walk” and I didn’t flinch when it happened. It just came right out of my hands. The logical next step for me is to start buying into the sentiment of douche commercials.
But it may be proving the whole point of the post I wanted to write about this strange mood that I’m in today where I don’t feel like crumpling up the entire world and throwing it into the toilet. I don’t want to slam doors or harm pedestrians. I have not once thought about drop-kicking Coco into traffic. If someone referred to something as totes amazeballs I don’t even think I’d punch them in the vagina.
I bring up my trainer because for the last six or seven months, she’s approached me on that treadmill, assessed the look on my face and asked, “What happened this time?” Usually the answer involved stress or fatigue or a lovely cocktail of both. If you designed a drink based on the mood I’ve been in for the last year the recipe would look like this:
– 17 shots tequila
– 1 gallon of urine
– ice
– 1 whole lime to squeeze in your eyes
You could call it The Upheaval.
I guess I didn’t have that look on my face this morning. When she asked me what was different I didn’t have an immediate answer. All I know is that this weekend during that snowstorm when I was socked inside with two stir-crazy kids and dogs I know I had that look on my face, that look times a hundred million because why do I live here why do I live here why do I live here.
And so the only thing I could come up with is the simple yet glorious contrast between the hopelessness I felt during that snowstorm — the hopelessness that it’s only the beginning of November and this could last for another six to seven months — and the warm angle of the sun on my face as I dropped the kids off at school this morning and continued on with my life. I just moved right along, and look. It didn’t stop me. I lived. That’s pretty cool.
My trainer was like, wait. You haven’t had this much energy in months. And you’re smiling. Because it’s sunny outside?! And I told her, look. I’m just as grossed out as you are, but there it is. It’s not snowing right this second. In fact, the sun is melting some of the 20 inches of accumulation in my yard. That is grounds for a party and you are invited.
So you know what I’m going to do? I’m going to buy a party hat and a kazoo and a box full of confetti. And every day this winter that it doesn’t snow I am going to celebrate the shit out of being alive.
So, yeah. Brisk motherfucking walk.