Crying in Pilates
Sorry for the slight lack of posts, I was busy finishing this bad boy:
Dissertation submitted! All 117 pages sent onto my committee, who will mark it up with copious amounts of red ink and grill me on June 9th. Don’t you want to trade places with me that day? I mean I’ll make you cookies! Oh what’s that you say, you don’t want to switch? You’d rather be sunning yourself on some tropical beach somewhere with a margarita in your hand? Damn, I thought it might have been a fair trade.
In the meantime, I’m spending my time crying in gym classes.
Yes I cried in my pilates class last week. Not because the moves were killer on my abs, nah that would be too logical.
So what triggered a tear-jerker moment in pilates?
It all started because the instructor was playing Mat Kearney song “New York to California” (download it now, it’s sooo good). This song also happened to be the background music to our wedding slide show, so a flood of wedding memories began spinning through my head. Because our wedding was in Santa Barbara it also made me think how much I love this city. Which in turn made me think about our impending move away from the sea-side town that holds hundreds, thousands of memories. And then the tears started flowing…
Thankfully I was lying on my stomach doing abs moves so no one could actually see the tears streaming down my face.
This has been my life recently. Crying at really inopportune times. It happens while driving, while running outside, even when sitting in my office staring out my window. I’m not a blubbering mess, just a sentimental person who is sad to be leaving a fabulous place with even more incredible people.
The funny thing is I can talk about the move without much emotion. I repeatedly tell people how excited I am to be moving back to Baltimore to start my internship, but also sad to be leaving Santa Barbara. I nonchalantly talk about my new position and new apartment. Now it’s become routine to say “Yes it will be a tough transition, but it will also be great to be back my family and old friends again.” All flippantly said with a smile and a shrug. Then I switch the subject by “Enough about me, how was your weekend?”
As any of you know who’ve had to leave something behind, it is not the easiest thing. But you also probably know how exciting it can be when you’re on the brink of something new and unexpected. The struggle lies in finding the balance between the two emotions.
I find myself longing for the days we first stepped foot into our first California apartment, literally knowing not a single soul. We went out to a nearby sports bar our first night and just stared at everyone around us wondering if one day we might know them. Pondering if we would eventually be saying things like “gnarly” and “brah,” or cutting class because there happened to be good surf that day. I marveled at how tan and blond everyone really was, and the slower SoCal pace of life. I felt like I was in the movies or at least an episode of Laguna Beach for those first couple weeks.
What seemed to be straight from the Hills started becoming real life. We didn’t take up surfing and most hours were not spent on the beach. What did happen was much greater than anything a movie or reality television show could ever script. Santa Barbara became our home. It contains the beach Mike got down on one knee to propose, the wedding site our closest family and friends watched us saying our vows, the school I soon will earn a PhD, and the place I have made life-long friends. All things that in my opinion trump a good surf ride any day of the week.
So if you look over and see the person next to you crying in pilates, don’t judge. Just give them a smile will you? They might just be happily reliving some fond memories.