From the WAC Institute 2003
By Renita Cole
Kapi`olani Community College
Stomach muscles clenching. A light sheen of perspiration misting the face. Fine beads of sweat trickling down the side of the neck. Heartbeat hammering. Breath exploding in short, ragged gasps. Quick, furtive glances around the room to see if others are laboring less but somehow making more progress. Welcome to the WAC Summer Institute.
No, this isn't really a scene out of the WAC Summer Institute; actually this was me last night at the 24 Hour Fitness gym. Before last week, which was coincidentally also the start of the WAC, I had never stepped foot in the gym. I was a bit anxious about getting started in both cases, fearing that I would be the proverbial sore thumb, conspicuously sticking out, or worse yet, being unable to keep up with the others. It may be a stretch of the imagination to see how the gym, usually a site for physical endeavors, could offer insight into lessons of writing. However, after bone-tiring, yet oddly satisfying, workouts, not to mention "writeouts," all last week, I couldn't help but notice certain parallels between my first week in the gym and in the WAC classroom.
Lesson #1: Talking about Exercising is Not the Same as Sweating.
At the gym, I've quickly learned that muscles of the human body do indeed atrophy when not put to use. As a teacher, my brain is probably the main muscle I've been flexing over the years. Apparently, walking briskly around the classroom, rushing to the copy room minutes before class, and running for a quick chocolate fix every couple of hours will not help much during thirty minutes on the StairMaster.
The same atrophy can occur in writing. In college, writing skills determined survival, and I once prided myself on being one of the fittest species around. Since then, my writing muscles have shrunk noticeably. It seems harder to get started, harder to transfer my ideas onto paper, harder to feel confident about my own words. I've learned that to be more effective in teaching and incorporating writing in the classroom, one should regularly exercise their writing muscles, not just talk about it. It's the first step to lifelong fitness.
Lesson #2: Don't Be Afraid to Let 'Em See You Sweat.
One of my greatest fears is failure, so I have never really liked being in a position where I'm not at my best or others are witnesses to my struggles. At the gym, most people are far from their best––bodies damp with sweat, faces contorted, occasional grunts of pain. Probably many neophytes to the gym feel the same way as I do, worried about revealing love handles, paunchiness, or trouble spots that can usually be cleverly disguised by clothing. It can be intimidating to look around the gym to see finely-toned bodies with seemingly endless stamina. Although I know that no one is actually judging or critiquing my workouts, I'm still not entirely comfortable. This is because being at the gym is voluntarily putting myself in a vulnerable position, one in which others get to see me sweat. For me, revealing my body in all its glorious, disproportionate puffiness can be just as horrifying as sharing my writing in its truest, rawest form. As in working out, I can't help but feel lacking when mentally comparing myself with other writers. Since writing is such an intimate, personal experience, I don't readily share my words with others. Fortunately, my reading response group has taught me that letting others see you sweat can actually be a positive, and even liberating, act. Workout ("writeout") buddies are also personal trainers, cheering you on when you need that extra boost, correcting your form, giving you tips for a better performance, motivating you to strive for higher, faster, stronger. In the long run, a little sweat may no longer seem to matter.
Lesson #3: Shame, Pain, or Gain: It's a Matter of Choice. If I'm completely honest, I must admit that I still fear exposing my weaknesses, limitations, and vulnerabilities at the gym and in writing (it's only been a week after all). Yet even though it can still be intimidating to see hard bodies around me, I'm invigorated and somehow comforted knowing that we all share a common goal: physical fitness. Everyone may be at different ability levels, with their own personal definitions of fitness and their own goals, as well as their individual techniques and workout routines, yet we have all chosen to be at the gym for a shared purpose. When I look around the WAC classroom, I am infused with the same kind of positive energy. Working out at the gym I've also learned that the first ten minutes or so of any exercise are torturous; just when it seems like you can't possibly survive another second, endorphins kick in and you enter what many fitness gurus refer to as "the zone." Likewise, when I reach the same fabled zone in writing, it's an exhilarating high that eventually leads to more and more quality writing. In this case, the familiar mantra, "no pain, no gain," is not entirely accurate. Achieving one's fitness goals, whether physically or through writing, does not necessarily have to be just a painful, joyless process.
As I continue on my path to lifelong fitness, I'll undoubtedly learn other writing lessons. Right now I'm the type of person who will immediately jump on a scale after a workout to see whether I've shed any pounds or not. Of course, getting into shape is not that easy. It takes commitment, determination, and focus. Have you worked out lately?
