Ode to my iFIT Instructor- RPE Edition
Words in italics by Knox Robinson
O secret & solid morning companion. Key to beautiful people. Killer of procrastination, Brooklyn blood oxidizing, Oregon breakers at your left. You gorgeous landscape, stately trunk among many & rhythm & blur & breath & bright opening ahead. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. But there really are no questions, now. I’ll focus on the curve of your shoulder. I’m learning pacing & precision. O my personal airport conveyor toward longevity & optimal blood pressure & positivity. Think: arrival, journey, images that take shape then scatter. Maybe this is more about you than fitness. You look slightly like The Weeknd, which is to say, sexy & slightly swaggering & full throttle, hips humming & hurling like a Harley near dawn. I should behave & I have this hour to myself & what can’t feel fresh & young right now? Your face is performance enhancing. I will follow at whatever speed & incline you set as your scruff glistens & you check back saying you look good. I’m no athlete. Nike & Athena won’t be calling me & no Victoria’s Secret model (no matter the rebranding) will have this backwoods trail of varicose veins gushing from a lava cake heart, no slanted steaming horizon of stretch marks. Mornings like this are my sliver of pie. My cheesecake destiny. My overprotective protein shake blended by a bullet. Everything is named with some combination of violence & love & wonder. My body leads me back to its own kindness. I’m in love again, or whatever this drumroll is, drinking from the bottled-water well of my untapped potential. You say it’s OK to go back & redo prior runs to consolidate your gains. Oh, to hear you explain why moving backwards can be necessary for moving forward. Proximity is relative. Yes, need is something to discuss during movement; it’s brisk & brief & I can believe it’s running making my chest ache. It’s dedication to the work. Yes, maybe that’s what this love, or any love, really is. Maybe that’s why I came to my great room after dropping my kids off at summer school. We warmed up. We ran by feeling. I can give a number to my exhaustion & look I’m the judge of my own exertion, my legs are gavels & maybe I run for RBG in theory. RPE is not a solid number. We are purposeful in our cool down. You say what aps & Alexa won’t. We aren’t lackadaisical here. Posture erect. Breathing cage open. Pulse and recovery. Pulse and recovery. Is there anything I can’t tackle in 30-second intervals? Soon I’m sprinting through 4-minute cycles & forest bathing & breathing a plant-based energy of pines while Cha-Cha Slide & songs about kisses tasting like Malibu play. Our goal is firmly in sight. We are in Nature’s studio, interpreting cues from the forest like my breath beside me still. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. As if you are answering my questions & yours. We’re just gonna do what we’ve been doing, but we’re just gonna do it better. Oh Knox. 5 more minutes. Stay in this moment. I’ll never know your problems & you’ll never know mine, but I believe when you look back & say, let’s recover together.