I Can't Quit You

It's never too late to do a little

I was definitely going to end the relationship, if you could even call it that. Twelve years, ten dollars a month and the last three - no, make that four— years have been almost a total loss. Why couldn’t I just admit I was not going to start using the Planet Fitness gym anytime soon and put that ten dollars they automatically take out of my account monthly to decent use?

But that’s their business model isn’t it? You barely feel it, so quitting seems almost harder than letting hope and dreams of being fitter, more disciplined —just an overall better person —burn on. If I could only unearth the keychain with the little plastic tag that held my membership number so I could go online and say goodbye…see, even the thought of having to drive all the way over there to the actual location, way on the other side of the town across the river, and to go in in person to face the looks of scorn or pity (or most likely complete disinterest) from the youngsters behind the desk seemed like too much. I imagined them challenging me, bargaining with me “Come on - free Black Card for the next month, I bet you’ll use it!” and then I’d feel even sillier when I never returned…

But this is January, after all - the first month, the new year. The time to remake and remodel. Giving up wine isn’t happening, especially with my birthday looming this week. I just love wine too much to say goodbye and being half Italian makes it almost a genetic requirement, if done in moderation, to enjoy that daily glass or two. I walk almost every day, do yoga when our back room isn’t full of amplifiers, screenprinting projects and suitcases waiting (and waiting) to be unpacked. I try, all year long.

I’m really embracing self-improvement this month. I’ve been doing a sketching challenge, one sketch a day. I started it to kind of push myself back into the habit of drawing, thinking all the time I spend scrolling on my phone could be put to better use; thinking how great to make use of my iPad with the Apple pencil so there’d be no excuse like “I don’t have my sketchpad or paint on me right now” etc.

I had gigs to prepare for last week, and found it hard to spend more than a few minutes sketching each day. Maybe I was finding the prompts kind of uninspiring. I’ve started migrating to Wendy Mac’s Drawing Together, her prompts and source materials are wonderful! The thing I was noticing above all was when it comes to doing artwork, it really is the materials that make it fun and spur me creatively. Did I mention I’ve been managing (if you could call it that!) the art supply section of the bookstore/bar for years? I spend a little time every month ordering paints, pens, paper, canvas and printing supplies—stacking sketchbooks and pens and markers into their slots, running my hands over watercolor blocks and linoleum battens. It’s the physical properties of this stuff that pulls people back into the world of art supplies- I see it over and over, the sense of possibility is all in the blank page, wondering what will this jar of ink do, in a way the screen of an iPad will just never duplicate. So rather than wanting to dash off my daily sketch conveniently on the iPad, I’ve wanted to tear paper, gouge linoleum, stab a quill into a bottle of ink. I crave the connection with the physical world and the iPad while handy just pulls me back into screenland.

Quick sketch from my January of daily sketching

In the same spirit, I’ve been trying to push myself to pick up my guitar, any guitar, every day. I tend to put that practice off - “when I have an hour I’ll really do a good session.” Well that hour never comes until I’m either recording or preparing for a gig. I write in a notebook every day and listen to music every day but I’m really trying to just feel the neck, strings and fretboard of a guitar to keep in touch no matter what’s going on. Again, get off the computer and phone and don’t even bother trying to come up with something new. Build a better habit.

So back to Planet Fitness. I found the plastic tag attached to the key in my lock I used to use in the locker room there at least a couple times a month. Sometimes I’d go just to watch TV on the treadmill. Watching TV in the daytime will always feel like getting away with something. Once I found the key I said to Eric “I think I want to go to the gym, just to say goodbye before I quit.” I thought maybe I’d even break up right there on the spot—in person, face to face. That might make it more real, for me anyway. I don’t think Planet Fitness really care what I do.

Eric and I went together, like we did when we first moved here and we only had one vehicle between us. It was a simpler time, but things were hard back then, in 2012. I remember going to the gym sometimes just to use the hot water, when we heated our house with oil and couldn’t afford a delivery. We’d fill up small cans at the gas station and dump them into the big oil tank outside, til we raised enough through gigs or whatever to get one of the fuel companies to deliver. The other thing they had back then at Planet Fitness was free bagels. So it felt like that membership was just general insurance you’d always be—if not fit, at least warm, showered and kind of fed. That feels like a long time ago now.

It occurred to me as I checked in the other day that they could see I had only been one time since the pandemic started, and I also lied and said “My phone died” to excuse myself from not using the app it had never occurred to me to install. They really weren’t interested. Back out on the floor with all the machines, Trump was still running for president like four and eight years ago, only now the TV screens were double and triple the size. The place was bigger, the machines had multiplied, the music was still annoying but it felt good to run on the treadmill and lift a few weights. I would never do either of those things outside gym world but there’s something about being in that environment that makes me feel more competitive and motivated. I got some exercising done and was out of there in no time. It was nice to not have to battle the elements to get in a walk outside and worry about wiping out on the ice.

Thoughts went through my head as I drove away from Planet Fitness: “It’s not that far to drive” and “we can get coffee now at the good place” and “I’ll be sixty-five this week” and I was really feeling my muscles sore after some modest cavorting on stage the past few days.

Modest cavorting on stage, photo by Tony Fletcher

“I think I want to come back,” I said to Eric. When I got home, I put the Planet Fitness app on my phone. It told me I was doing a good job this month by coming to the gym one time (it was already the twenty-first but Planet Fitness is famously a “no judgement zone” so even for one time I deserved a little praise! Who can’t use a little positive reinforcement?) I thought why not kick this can down the road a little further. As long as my membership lived, so did hope, that I’d be a fitter, more toned, more disciplined person. One who drew daily, played guitar practically in their sleep and was better able to help others.

The wine could stay. I wouldn’t want to get smug.