As I have persisted along in my early morning jogging routine, unfailing in my dedication, despite the cooler weather, changing light and my deep dislike of the early morning… I stumbled upon a new trick, again related to music, which helped me finish the run.
This past week, I read an essay entitled On Being a Grownup by an old friend from high school. In addition to making me laugh, I found myself later reflecting on what being a grown-up means to me. Working at exercise is something adults do. As a kid, exercise was fun. It was a gymnastics class with a trampoline, a soccer game in the backyard, building a snow fort, or raking leaves into fun shapes (yeah.. how manipulative were my parents!?) It certainly wasn’t getting up before you were ready, hurrying out the door in the dark and cold, and forcing your muscles to complete three miles of agony - arriving back at home at a time you should still have been sleeping. “Blah” is exactly the right expression.
But as I ran this morning, “Into the Groove” by Madonna began playing… and with my introspective grownup glasses on, I reflected on the 80’s, and Madonna as I ran.
Madonna and the 80’s. For me, this was a time of some serious dancing. Maybe in my bedroom, or backyard (with my tape player and earphones), maybe in my cousin’s basement where we held pretend microphones and whirled around to the music. Not long after Madonna broke onto the scene came the movie, Girls Just Want To Have Fun. Complete with a great 80’s soundtrack, Sarah Jessica Parker took Dance TV by storm - and I later repeated her winning routine many times over in my bedroom. Could there be anything better than Janey, defying her father’s wishes, to dance her way to stardom?? Wow, those were the days. I was inherently cool and talented as I bee-bopped around with my huge hot pink earrings and big hair. Oh, what a feeling.
Suddenly, I found as I ran, and Madonna continued to play, I was back in the basement with my cousin. I pretended each step on the pavement was another step in an amazing dance routine. I wasn’t facing the agony of my muscles, I was whirling around, in time to the music, and the crowds were cheering. I was the ultimate Dance TV winner. Maybe I am just really good at deluding myself, but it worked and I was smiling. Laughing, nearly.
Being a grownup doesn’t have too many completely free moments. I’m not sure I could dance as crazily around my house as an adult, as I did as a child. Okay, maybe as crazily, but not as carefree. I am tired, self-conscious, and constantly juggling the to-do list in the back of my head. I might try to let that all go for awhile, but it would still be there lurking in the back - in a way it never was for me as a child.
But as I ran, for that little bit, I was there - freed to relax and enjoy the memory because I was actively completing a part of the to-do list. And after the song ended, something else came to me. Exercise isn’t very fun for me. But I exercise because I don’t want to miss anything. I want to grow old to enjoy and appreciate the colors of fall even if I have to rake the leaves, to cheer on the sidelines of soccer games and shuttle kids to gymnastics, to watch my children grow and become adults with interesting opinions and ideas, to savor the quiet mornings of retirement with a slow sipped coffee, to read good books and talk to interesting people, and maybe, to get old enough to lose some of the self-consciousness and dance again with abandon…
The sacrifices of lost freedom, hard work, and even the exercise - are a small price to pay for the wonders of being a grownup.
Get up on your feet and step to the beat - being a grownup is like dancing on the ceiling.
