Petty Behaviors

Sometimes I'm not really sure if we ever grow out of middle school (or high school, for that matter) mentalities. I'm speaking of myself, too, when I say this (not trying to throw jabs). Some situations in life just make it ever more clear that the human mind/spirit is prone to drama....and even prone to enjoying the pain it causes. I'm not sure I want to discuss the situation I'm referring to in specifics, but the gist of it is that people always want to claim being victim. It's like a game of blame-shifting (but then, it's been that way since Adam & Eve!) that is all about playing innocent, avoiding guilt and garnering pity. Take a step back, and it all looks pretty selfish from the audience's perspective--but you can never see that when you're stuck in the acting.

As difficult as it is to drag yourself away from the pull of drama (what I mean is letting petty human behavior really get to you), I think that may be the true task of "growing up". It will never completely go away (we live in a fallen world), but the hope is that perhaps someday we will watch it subside from the sidelines with little to no involvement--or perhaps the type of involvement that resolves the issue altogether (without making it worse first).

Personal Trainer Trauma

Today was my first personal training session at the gym.


I literally broke a sweat before I even set foot in the door. Was this a bad decision? Is it worth it? Will I hate my trainer? All legitimate questions that were racing through my brain. The amount of caffeine I had practically injected into my body this morning couldn't have helped my nerves. The last time I had to endure the physical demands of an instructor was in high school with my swim coach and, occasionally, the trainers in the school weight room. For some reason, that never seemed as much of an issue. Perhaps it's because I was surrounded by other equally un-athletic team mates or gym-class associates. There were always at least a few with whom I could relate.

But here, in the "real world" gym, everything seems much more serious...mostly. I saw a girl on a treadmill the other day who was literally running her pants off. With each step, the tight Lycra leggings were inching lower and lower down her back to her butt. I'm sure she was quite proud of her sculpted rear, but it really was not a pretty sight for the rows of treadmills behind her. I nearly laughed out loud. Or perhaps I did and couldn't hear myself beyond the double blare of my iPod and the radio tunes piped into the gym area.

Back to the training session today, I suppose I really had nothing to fear but fear itself (although I'm sure FDR never had a personal trainer). My old mantra that God didn't mean us to bust our butts on the stair-master to keep in shape will never stop creeping up into the back of my head, but at least for the next ten weeks I will have an excuse to crawl out of my hole of an office...and perhaps wind up in a better body!