I have often thought that putting together a group exercise class is like telling a story: first, there’s a beginning. There are peaks and valleys and a conclusion you hope feels satisfying. A class literally moves people. It makes them feel things and teaches them something about themselves. Ideally, an exercise class uses its physical and emotional power for good. In my novel Playing Army, the main character, Minerva, dogs her soldiers out during physical training to make a leadership point—that she is strong and the boss of them. Okay, maybe this lesson only makes sense in a military context! It’s not cool to muscle up on participants in a civilian exercise class! But I hope I’m making my point about how stories and fitness classes can be similar.

In recent years I haven’t really wanted to teach fitness while I was focused on writing. Teaching uses the same source of creativity that writing does, and in a way, I felt like I’d accomplished what I wanted to with fitness for the time being, even as I knew I’d return to it at some point. For being such a dyed in the wool introvert, I do love exercising in the company of others. It’s probably the only way I’m more energized at the end of a gathering rather than depleted by it.

I’ve been feeling drained of all creativity lately, and decided to dip a toe back into the fitness world. In January and February I helped a group of midlife women get more comfortable with strength training, and it helped ME so much to feel useful, to lend some of my physical confidence to them (I’m lacking in emotional confidence but possess it in my actual skin and muscles and bones—is that odd?). To be looked at as an authority on something, an element sorely lacking in my day job. And I’d forgotten how important it is to be of service. Nor to siphon positive strokes from people who are in a one-down position to me, or to be anyone’s great white hope or role model or anything self-aggrandizing like that. Just to give a little of my energy, time, and knowledge to be of genuine help, no strings attached. And in doing so, I was repaid in more energy.

Maybe it’s a bit of a paradox but giving my physical and emotional energy in the context of fitness is a force multiplier—my day job sucks me dry but teaching fitness pumps me up again. I’m still not writing much but at least I feel better about myself.

So I’m starting a core strength class this week. We have a lot of very desk-bound people in our community, with all the stiffness and muscular imbalance and back pain to go along with it. I’ve been feeling pretty rudderless with writing—so much to do, so very little time, that it’s hard to prioritize and buckle down. I’ll be so happy if my little once a week class helping others develop a stronger center, a sturdier backbone, has a similar outcome for me. I could use a reminder about what is most important.

Wish me luck! And thank you for reading!

Nancy

P.S. If you’ve read Playing Army and enjoyed it, but haven’t yet left a rating or review, please could you leave one on Amazon? https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0D1DBRLL8/

And on Goodreads? https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/211147246-playing-army

Thank you again, you amazing people, you!

*Did you know I’m a gym rat? I earned my first fitness certification in 1992!