The Missing Earbud

This morning calamity struck. One of my earbuds was missing. I have the bad habit of dropping my earbuds loosely in my gym bag instead of securing them back in their pod. I called gym reception, but it was clear the poor assistant was multitasking and only half listening. So not much luck there, hoping that someone will hand it in at reception. What on earth would anyone do with one earbud?

And then it struck me — the fact that I care this much about a tiny earbud means something has changed. Not so long ago, going to the gym felt like a chore. Now I’m worried about missing the music that carries me through my workout.

I love loud music with a great beat, think Disturbed (The Sound of Silence), Avicii, Nickelback, anything from David Guetta. The music carries me when my legs start to complain. My iPhone annoyingly nags me to turn the volume down, but I ignore it.

The music is loud, pounding, and perfect for the treadmill. The rhythm helps me keep pace, my mind switches off, and the workout almost becomes my little private world. Apparently, psychologists sometimes call this “flow” (your mind quiets down, your brain stops screaming “why am I doing this”, the rhythm of the treadmill and music take over, and your body operates on autopilot). I love this.

Then I start thinking, how does this look to other gym-goers? Maybe they see a crazy older woman sweating away with a euphoric expression on her face, behaving like she is convinced she will win a gym challenge. But I feel wonderful, energised, athletic and on top of the world.

Sometimes the clearest sign of change is very small. In my case, it might just have been the missing earbud. The fact that losing my earbud feels like a calamity tells me something surprising - somewhere along the way, the gym stopped being something I should do and rather became something I wanted to do. Routines quietly form and progress happens. The gym has quietly become part of my life.

The gym routine I never thought I would love always starts on the stair master, building up a nice sweat. Then I move on to the treadmill at a 15° incline and a fast speed, with music pounding in my ears. Sweat runs in a small river down the treadmill. After wiping down the treadmill, I move onto some strength training and finish off with another thirty minutes on the treadmill.

Not bad for a 61-year-old? The body adapts quietly. One day you realise the thing you once resisted has become part of your life.

I started going to the gym because I wanted to change my body. But sometimes the reward isn’t the number on the scale. Sometimes it’s simply walking out of the gym feeling fantastic.

And hopefully someone will still hand in that missing earbud.

Because tomorrow morning, I have a workout waiting.

— Frannie ☕

If this sounds familiar, you might enjoy these too…

• Starting Again… For the 47th Time

• The Voice in My Head

• When Motivation Disappears — What Then?