Dating in the Dark

I am sitting here, minding my own business, drinking a glass of white, having just finished a chicken burger from Trader Joe's that I cooked up on the grill and ate on toast, not having hamburger buns in the house. I am reading my Entertainment Weekly magazine, an issue of which I have not missed in about 10 years. And there's a little note, under the Summer TV Preview section, about a new show called "Dating in the Dark."

Yes, this is exactly as it sounds to you. A reality show in which two people "meet in the dark room to get to know each other emotionally and physically, while viewers watch via night vision." Then they turn on the lights.

Great. Just great. This is where we are as a society. And, before you even say it, I realize that there are a lot of other things that could make me question where we are as a society other than this. So shut up.

Course, the little EW blurb goes on to say that the executive producer of this show says that these folks in the dark room form a connection, but do looks change that? And EW says "We're gonna go with yes." This, dear friends, is the problem.

The show has set us up to further realize that looks are the end all and be all of everything. And this being television, they are going to find the hottest dude ever who has the personality of a noodle or a velocaraptor, have the normal, fine looking chick hate him, then the lights come on, she changes her mind, and the ass decides she's not good looking enough for him. And they'll definitely have the total dork guy or the woman who isn't even as overweight as I have been, and their partner-to-be will love them, declare them the best kisser ever and will get one look and back out.

All proving to all those young, impressionable girls and boys out there that in the end, it doesn't matter a whit whether you're nice, or smart, or have a super personality. And even worse, it'll prove to all those unpartnered 20- and 30-somethings out there that they're justified to reject the person they really dug over email or on the phone the minute they get a look at them (even if they, themselves have some relatively good sized flaw either physically or otherwise).

It's embarrassing. And disgusting. And it's shit for those of us out here still looking, in the dark, for someone who gets us.

Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe this show will be the best thing ever and people will overcome their prejudices and go home with the girl with acne to live happily ever after. Maybe. But I won't be watching to find out.

Note: Half-way through writing this post, I thought to myself "Who are you? Don't you judge guys by what they look like? Haven't you rejected someone because they were just too much of a dork for you?" And then I tried to figure out what to do. Go back and insert a paragraph? Write a disclaimer about how I too have done this? Psychoanalyze myself about why I do that and then try to either justify it or explain it away by society's influence? Then I decided to just name it here. Say I've done it. I'll do it again. We all do. But let's not make it voyeuristic. It hurts every time someone does it to me. Or you. So let's not watch it happen to other people.

FitCamp

This morning, I lunge walked up and down the basketball court in front of Stony Brook T station in the South West Corridor Park at 6 a.m. After that, I ran back to the other side, and then walked back down the court, raising one leg in the air touching the toes with the opposite hand like a tin soldier, alternating legs. Then I squatted down, put my elbows inside my knees, raised one arm, then the other, and then stood up. Repeatedly. Then I did 5 divebombers, which is where you put your hands and feet on the ground with your butt in the air (downward facing dog for you yogis) and then lower yourself down using your arms but without your body touching the ground and then up again.

That was the first 10 minutes.

After that, I got inside a giant rubber band (literally - a giant rubber band) with another person. She braced herself while I ran back and forth in the band touching her knee, alternating sides for 20 seconds. Then she went. Next I turned sideways while she stayed frontwards to brace and I side-walked back and forth, with my body low and knees bent back and forth. Then we turned so my back was to her and I ran in place, back and forth closer to her and further away. All while fighting the resistance of the band.

My awesome trainer is the only fully certified trainer for the full bands (not the kind with the handles) on the East Coast! And she loves to show us how good she is!

Then we had to do wall jumps. Literally jump with both feet from the ground up onto the stone wall. My guess? A foot and a half? Two feet? Not sure. I just know every time I jumped, I wondered if I would miss and crack my face open. I didn't. We alternated that with arm presses with the bands again. Three rounds. Then we had to do wall push-ups. Hands on the ground, feet on the wall. Push up. For 30 seconds. Sure, right. Push-ups are one of the only things that I can't even fake doing. I held the position most of the time for those.

There was a bunch more stuff after that. I can't even remember all of it. Then we finished up with "burpy" runs. What the hell, you ask, is that? We had to run the length of the court, then do 3 burpys, then run, 2 burpys, then run, 1 burpy, then run, 1 burpy. A burpy is going down into the push-up position, then keeping your hands on the ground, jump to your feet being under your chest, then finally, jump up into the air! Crazy.

I am a total convert to FitCamp. I've convinced a friend to join me for the June session. I am perhaps going to go bankrupt staying in this program. Although, it's actually pretty affordable. Two weeks ago, I could barely walk because my quads hurt so much. Now I'm much better now, except today my lower back hurts (must be from all that impact of jumping up on a wall). I love my trainer. She's no nonsense, but has the ability to read when you need a bit of motivation "Go, Karen!" or prodding "Keep it high! Keep working!" She plans out the workouts - they're in a notebook. (I'm a big fan of people who don't wing it.)

Join us in JP June 1 - 26, MWF, 6-7 a.m. Sign up here. It's the best $150 (for 12 sessions! a bargain!) you'll ever spend!

Resiliance & Grace

Four months today. Four. Since my world supposedly crashed down around me. That's what it felt like. And two months later, it still felt like that. But here, here on the mark of four months, it feels almost like that never happened. Like it was a story someone told me. (Perhaps this is an indication that I'm not in touch with my emotions enough?)

I still wonder. And I still have moments of extreme sadness. And I still think about when the inevitable "bumping into" will happen. But those moments are fewer. And they're farther between now.

Resilience is a skill. A talent. A blessing. And I've always had it. Thank god. Grace is also a skill. A talent. A blessing. I've not always had it. I'm learning it, though. To take things with it. To understand things with a sense of it. To move through world with some. It'll come.