Tonight's Poet Corner: Regimen
Regimen by Belinda Roddie How many times have I gone to the gym, slammed my worn out sneakers onto an elliptical trainer, spun my knees up and down like I'm a meat machine, focusing my eyes on my own reflection in the window, waiting for the thirty minutes to end, waiting halfway for the adrenaline to kick in, waiting until the heat has painted my face red and white like a porcelain doll going mad for rouge and blush? How many times have I strained the inside of my thighs from a leg press, bent steel in my own limbs so I could see the divots in my calves, made it difficult to breathe because the cramp in my abdomen is like the bar of a roller coaster seat pinned down too hard against my diaphragm? How many times have I let the angsty rock music I listened to when I was younger drive my resolve to at least not get any bigger than the two hundred pounds I carry with me on a daily basis, even though no one correctly guesses the number that builds the anatomy