I’ve always compartmentalized my life. I wouldn’t talk about writing at work, talk about work while working out, or talk about working out with other writers. Everything had its place… Until now. I’ve started opening up about my multiple lives. I work a day job, I write at night, I love to lift heavy weights and run races, I like painting my nails and the Boston Red Sox. I’m not sure why I separated it all, but it probably had to do something with not breaking the rules. I thought I had to be a mindless Admin machine at work and I was convinced that all famous writers smoked and drank until they died… from smoking and drinking.
It took me awhile but now I can say it: I was wrong. I was so fucking wrong. I don’t need organized cubby holes for everything I love and enjoy, I can be just like my big messy bookcase with binders full of Pinterest workouts next to Joan Didion’s Democracy. (No really, this is true. My bookcase is a disaster.)
Once I opened my eyes I discovered that lots of writers enjoyed working out, that fitness was a part of their regimented daily routines and that it kept many of them sane while working all those words out. Charles Dickens walked miles a day, Kafka liked to work out by an open window, and Haruki Murakami wrote a bestseller about his running habits.
In an effort to continue the combining of my unique interests, I will be researching and writing short articles and posts on the exercise habits of famous writers. I need to keep convincing myself that working out and writing go hand and hand more so than drinking until I pass out does.
Welcome to Trim The Fat. Kurt Vonnegut is the first to get the treatment later this week.