Dammit … It IS Menopause!

I’m at the gym on the elliptical with Beautiful: The Carole King Musical playing on my headphones. The overture has barely begun to play and I am in tears. I don’t even fully understand why I’m in tears; I just know it’s a good thing and I let it happen. It had something to do with my teenage years and remembering how much I was moved by her music so long ago. Music can be so healing. I try to wipe my tears as inconspicuously as possible. But I realize I don’t really care all that much what I may look like. I just feel good.

Meanwhile, the guy in front of me on the bike is that guy that’s always at the gym. He is so into his music that he is practically dancing off the seat with his upper body, including his own unique style of hairology. It is quite a spectacle. It borders on crazy when he seems to conduct a symphony at certain parts. In between enjoying my tears and my rising endorphin level, I wonder if his over-the-top-head-shaking to the beat-of-his-music-sweat-dripping head may spray sweat onto me. The thought momentarily grosses me out. Luckily, I am just out of reach, thank You, God. I smile and laugh to myself. My music continues to move me to still more tears. Another man walks by and I watch him watch the über-sweaty rocking-out guy and shake his head and smile. I smile and cry simultaneously. I feel so good.