Music saved my life. The bass pounding beats removed all the noise inside my head. It made me a super hero… in a word a super ME. And for that I fell in love; wonderfully hopelessly in love. It wooed me and courted me and took a gentle approach, knowing that I was still fragile and weary of rejection. It enamored me by rhythm and words, by its focus and ultimately by its drive. It incorporated all the things that I was looking for in a lover and brought them into the forefront as a means to be captured. It was reliable, ever-present, flexible and dare I say attractive? Who could not love the way a voice expressed everything you felt you could not at the moment, especially when attempting to move? I was starting to feel like I was in a polygamous relationship. On one hand I had my sneakers (who by this point had established themselves as the head honchos in my life) and now music. Apparently they reached some sort of agreement when I wasn’t paying attention, and I can honestly say that I was just happy that they were in sync to allow me to get to moving.
Because that’s what I was doing my friends. I was moving in a new way, and as you embark on whatever life- style change suits you, JUST MOVE. You don’t need money to walk, nor do you need money to run around the block, or to even make a playlist that makes you smile in times when no one realistically should. Let the tempos of your youth encapsulate you and lose yourself for fifteen, twenty, thirty, forty-five, or for an hour a day. Don’t keep telling yourself I’ll wait until I get a better paying job to make it happen. This was at the point where I had, yes, finally found a job. I was doing retail might I add at Lane Bryant [deep discounts while you can get them anyone?] but it still wouldn’t cover a gym membership. I had to be realistic. That money was strictly for sustenance and student loans. But I made the best of what I could of my now 400 dollars a month part-time income. I worked the sales floor like a woman on a mission and moved around and listened to the music in the store and dreamed of a thinner day.
I dreamed of a day when I wouldn’t have to sneak size 24’s [new size!] in the corner to add them to my size smaller clothing pile. I envisioned a day when I would not be represented by the clothing size that I was and hoard beautiful clothing because I had put a month’s hunt in to get the perfect look and to find the one thing that made me look my age. Music helped me with that. For all the things that I could say about my time at Lane Bryant, I can say that their music was official. If you’re ever in a Lane Bryant stock-room, look for the summer 06’ play-mix. Outstanding! It was the downtown Brooklyn soundtrack of fun and happiness. It was the rallying call for women to sort clothing by size, and floor set with the best of them. Maybe the music was so good as to mask the hurt expressions on their customer’s faces when the biggest size in the store was still too tight. "Keep Smiling, Keep Shining.” But it didn’t do that for me. Its frequency was right with my tempo.
My tempo, however, was always varied but my Brooklyn couldn’t be hidden. Those original playlists that I created and that were played in LB were a poem of my life, homage to my rejuvenation:
Woo Hah! It Tricky but Work It, Amante
Pump It with the Flava in Ya Ears
Loose Control at the Crossroads
Ready or Not, Lucifer I’m gonna chase you out of here
I had to merge all the music from the past and the present to begin to feel that I was finally coming full circle. From 7 to 22, I had forgotten how music could make me move. So to Biggie, Busta Rhythmes, Missy, Black Eyed Peas, Craig Mac, Run DMC, Bone thugs N Harmony, Fugees and Jay- Z thanks for helping me work on the demons while I tried to build up my fitness. I knew then as I know now that for the majority of the time, it would always be rap, no soothing lullabies of R&B, no melodic sounds of alternative rock. I had done enough soothing and I was putting myself into the ninth level of Dante’s hellacious Inferno. I wanted my lungs to burn for my past indiscretions, and wanted my muscles to scream in happiness for years of neglect. I was paying attention to my person, and I had music to thank for that.
I was still only three months in, but I had fourteen playlists. There was one for every day of the week, and seven more to just change up the mood. Their titles are still firmly planted on my computer to be summoned at will at any time. I bought a shuffle out of my meager paycheck [after my diligent Gen 3 I-pod retired after 4 yrs of service], and I was making it work for me. I still have it and use it for the gym; though the color has now changed. I discovered a part of myself through that music, and while I always loved Rap/Hip Hop I would have never thought that it would become the background to my weight-loss. I could relate to stories of struggle and pain, and while they all did not always coincide with mine, the hurt was evident on all levels. I understood the brashness of those voices and the melodic entrapment of commitment to be in a better place. The music waltzed and wooed me down fourteen sizes. It changed its approach over the past 2.5yrs and threw some eclectic elements that represented all my musical tastes. The Killers snuck in with U2 in toe. I was happy to see them. They didn’t normally get attention during my workouts. But they understood. I needed Rap in the beginning to get me going. Music knew that.
I can always appreciate anything or anyone that understands that I need complete harmony in my life. My playlists couldn’t stay one genre, because I’m not one genre. Thanks Music. And Music, in case you didn’t know it because I know I don’t say it that much, I love you too.
Sidenote: That first playlist will be posted, if you’re looking for something to get you started.
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