For many people, seeing a therapist is incredibly beneficial. Trust me, I’m not going to knock that.
But as long as I have sneakers and I sports bra, I don’t think I’ll be shelling out a copay to chat with someone on a couch. Maybe that’s because I basically suck at talking about my feelings. (Fine, yes, I’m flawed.)
Tonight I took my favorite spinning class at the gym. I snagged a front row seat next to one of my gym pals (Hi, CJ!) and was so excited to churn my legs as fast and hard as possible. While the instructor screamed at us — “You just worked harder in 45 minutes than most people will work all week!” — my brain felt clear.
As the sweat dripped down my face (and into my eyes, and down the back of my neck…because I’m super sexy) I focused on the power in my body. I cranked up the resistance every time he told us to (yup, sometimes I cheat and only do a teeny tiny turn to the right) and pushed myself as hard as I could.
When I left class, I had a serious pep in my step. Maybe it’s because the second to last song — when I thought I had nothing left in me — was Lady Gaga’s “Born This Way.” Or maybe it’s because I sweat out whatever mental toxins I had in me after an exhausting couple weeks.
Either way, I left class feeling great. Exercise is my therapy.
AND YOU? What’s your therapy? I don’t care if it’s a bowl of ice cream or cleaning out your closet once a month. Tell me what keeps you grounded.