Gym and writing have a lot in common. When I glanced at someone else working at the gym this morning, it hit me.
Don’t pay attention to what that person is doing — I don’t care if Andy Weir is over there benching 400 (did Wendig just add twenty-five for him?). Pay attention to your own body, and the work it’s doing; pay attention to your own lift — you can lift more than you think, I swear. Eyes on your own page. Brain on your own work.
A lot of people are there, but some of them are just sitting.
Plenty of people just sit on the bench and scroll through social media when they should be doing their reps.
And reps are important.
You can work your ass off for two straight months, but ease up for a couple of days and you might backslide. It’s going to take some effort to get back into the rhythm.
It seems like a really good idea —
Until you have to do it. How heavy is this bar? How blank is this page? Shut up and give me ten.
I gave you ten yesterday!
It’s true — I don’t write OR gym every day. Find the right rhythm for both. Even if I’m not wording, I’m plotting. Even if I’m not lifting, I’m mindful of staying active. (Did Andy just throw another twenty-five on that bar…)
The really good work is exhausting
And leaves you soaked to the bone. It’s probably going to hurt. It leaves you knowing you did something — something hard, and something worthwhile. And you’re gonna die either way, so do the work.
That’s snarky, but:
I’m a better writer when I’m in the gym. I’m a better writer when I’m moving. And this fall, I mean to remember that. Don’t pay attention to Andy or Chuck or anyone else. Eyes on my own work, which is pretty damn fine (I can squat 200 now, omg these thighs!). Let’s go.
Thanks to Dean for encouraging bad blog posts.