ready for reattitude*
[Alt text: The Washington DC area Mormon temple, which looks like the Disney castle, at sunset]
The way it worked out, schedule-wise, my first personal training session in DC was the morning of my 50th birthday. Afterwards, for the first time in more than 4 months, I was physically, muscularly tired. There’s a difference I can’t articulate between being tired from cardio and being tired from weights. The latter is somehow more satisfying, because it feels like my whole body is dragging the rest of the day, and I know that I will sleep so, so hard.
The training sessions are part of a “special package” that lets me use the gym whenever I want, and includes free group classes. So the following week I started going to the weekly Pilates mat class, and then added the geriatric yoga class (where I gaped, open-mouthed, at the old lady who went down into a full split).
I felt like I was gaining the tiniest bit of momentum. A sort of reset at 50. Establishing a weekly routine for myself, doing physical activities that are good for me, chit chatting with retirees in far better shape than me. Not making a ton of huge changes all at once, but gradually adding on more stuff, one thing at a time. On days I didn’t go to the gym or wasn’t chained to my laptop, I made a point of either borrowing my aunt’s dog for a long walk, or walking solo in Rock Creek Park at deer o’clock.
And then I took it one step further: I cut out alcohol.
It started out as an experiment. Like, I’m doing some stuff right now that is good for me. How would it feel if I not only added some good, but also subtracted some bad? What would change, if anything? And would I even be able to do it? I am the child of an alcoholic, and my nightly glass or two of wine, well, that’s a slippery ass slope for someone with my genetic makeup.
The first few nights were weird. There was nothing to numb me, to quiet my anxiety about life and the world in general. I was forced to sit with that anxiety, to recognize it for what it was, to accept it. Like, this is me, and I have to ride this out until it passes. TikTok and reading helped a little.
Self-awareness is a long way off. I’m still in entry-level, curiosity mode. Almost squinting at my mind from far away, trying to figure it out. The navel-gazing happens during the day now, too. Recognizing that I’m restless or agitated or some other unpleasant thing and wondering why. Have I even been outside today? What do I really need to do for my own sanity, right this minute? The answers are all over the place: Go for a walk. Stretch. Do something I have been procrastinating, like taking that bag of crap to Goodwill so I don’t have to look at it anymore. Drive to Richmond for the weekend. Go get ice cream. Etc.
Early experiment results so far: Lower anxiety levels, fewer emotional/hormonal ups and downs, and much more stuff on my calendar to look forward to. Is it that alcohol causes anxiety, or is it that, without alcohol, I am forced to recognize and address anxiety in healthier ways? Maybe both?
They say it takes 21 full days to establish a new habit. I’m almost there. That doesn’t mean I will never have another cocktail. It feels more like, after turning my life upside down to fix various external problems, I’m finally settled enough to start addressing some long-standing internal ones.
But I will never, ever give up ice cream.
Links
The Eve 6 guy now has an advice column, and this one about quitting weed, well he said it much better than I could. Not because I enjoy weed. Neither does he. (Input)
My entire childhood and young adulthood, seeing what we called “the Disney castle” from the Beltway (outer loop, ahem), meant we were almost home. The castle is, in fact, a Mormon temple, and they are letting non-believers in for the first time in 50 years. I have a ticket and cannot wait to see how ugly it is inside. (Washingtonian)
Dax Shepard’s podcast interview with Cillian Murphy. Yes I’m obsessed with Tommy Shelby, but I was surprised at how great an interviewer Shepard is. He has no filter, is unapologetically himself/isn’t trying too hard, and sounds a lot smarter than he looks. (Digg)
This article on why American teens are so sad is useful for adults, because maybe we can avoid some of the same triggers. (Atlantic)
Have you watched Rothaniel? What did you think? I want to believe it was as natural and organic and real as it looked. I don’t recommend watching his earlier standup afterwards, though. (HBO)
New music from Bruce Lee Band. (YouTube)
Books: I loved Libertie and oh my god, No One Is Talking About This has me laughing out loud. (Bookshop)
Japan has a Penis Parade. (Hypebae)
A plant I wouldn’t kill. (LEGO)
Another incredibly satisfying cleaning video. (Tiktok)
You probably don’t know your neighborhood as well as you think you do. (Backofyourhand)
“We are selling the upstate property that we purchased a year into the pandemic, when we freaked out and overpaid for a shack in the woods.” This is brilliant. (New Yorker)
For next week
This middle-aged navel gazing, it feels like I should have figured out a lot of this shit DECADES ago. Hoping you will make me feel a little better by telling me about something it took you forever to learn – about yourself, your life, the world in general. Because better late than never, right? As always, you can reply directly to this email and anything I share will be anonymous.
**Subject line is a reference to this song, something I still listen to on the elliptical. I have no idea what Jamie’s singing because the bass always has my full attention.