Music moves me.

Literally and figuratively.

Most people don't know I was a music major in college, and actually have a bachelors in music therapy.  It's easy to be confused- if you've ever had the misfortune of hearing me sing or seeing me dance, you'd know that I pretty much lack the fundamentals (i.e. musicality and rhythm).  I changed my mind my junior year, but was so close to graduating, decided to get the degree then go onto graduate school for something I *really* wanted to do.  Other then being really, really stupid (well, not stupid per se, I did afterall get a 4.0 in grad school...brag over) and racking up student loans, I am glad I went that route.  But anyway, my whole point is, I don't know if it's because music was once such a huge part of my life, or if it's just normal, but music really, really has the ability to move me. 

Music is also tied so closely to my memory.  Like, if I hear "I can only imagine" by Mercy Me, I am suddenly sitting on the hospital bed of a 15 year old girl.  I've just spent a long amount of time talking with her about how there is nothing more the doctors can do, and that she is going to die.  She requested this song be sung specifically.  No, not by me...by the *actual* music therapist.  The entire room was transfixed--and I was blown away that this was the one song she thought of. (sidenote: despite all odds, she did not, in fact, die.  That is a whole other story, full of unexplained "miracles", that stumped even the medical staff).

Or, if I hear "Tainted Love" I am suddenly in the Ivory Tusk, beer in hand, my friend Kelley by my side, guns ablazing (yes, only Kelley will understand that reference).

Or, if I hear "Feels Like Home", I am standing with my best friend in all the world, promising my life to him, while all our family watches us get married.

Music moves me.  Which is what you have to understand when I tell you that I cried in spin class. Oh yes, I did.

My favorite spin instructor, Beth, well she just has a way with choosing music that motivates.  Usually because it gets the room excited, she "choreographs" the workout to fit the music, and really, it becomes a party.  It is quite simply the best way to spend an hour of my time, and I really wish she taught more than one spin class a week.  The music tends to be current and motivating.  But one day last week, in the middle of the workout (I'd say we were about 1/2-3/4 way through class), she did something different.  She told us to add resistance to our bikes, reach our hands out, backs flattened.  She says "put your head down. Close your eyes.  This is YOUR time.  This is YOUR workout.  You are here for you and no one else.  Just pedal, don't stop, don't change pace, for one whole song."  So there I was, head down, eyes closed, legs sore and shaking, feeling the power of my body- the one that has done nothing but fail me the last 8 months of my life.  Feeling myself stronger then I've been in a long time.  The song?  Pink.  F'ing perfect.

Sounds funny, right?
But the words just got to me.

"mistaken, always second guessing, underestimated, look I'm still around"

"Pretty pretty please

Don't you ever ever feel

Like you're less than

F'ing perfect

Pretty pretty please

If you ever ever feel

Like you're nothing

You're f'ing perfect to me."

And sure, maybe the song is about something different, I don't know.  But there is a message of accepting yourself in there.  I heard it....I realized how much I fight accepting myself.  Hell, someone gives me a compliment in my blog telling me I look great and I counter with "eh, must be the angle of the camera, because, I do not in fact, look great".  I did force myself to delete that because I realize I cannot take a compliment, and I also can't seem to accept myself the way I am.  Anyway, in my head, while pedaling away, that song spoke to me.  Telling myself, hey, stop beating yourself up.  So you don't have a perfect, skinny body. So you doubt yourself all the time.  So you lack confidence.  Stop it.  You're perfect.  You are here.  You are working hard.  You are perfect. 

And yes, I had tears (well, tears and sweat) in my eyes.

And THAT is how I managed to cry in spin class.

I blame the music.