Her powerful and provocative artistry fails to capture the hearts of those who don't quite understand her message. Often overlooked in the art world, Beyoncé has struggled for years to gain the respect of her peers. That all changes when she meets A...
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Routines are a blessing.
You could plan a good deal of your life on autopilot, not needing to give even the most mundane tasks much thought. You just get them done. The pattern of life is familiar; the shape of it is like an old quilt, something you can snuggle up to.
Maybe every day had a few new things in it. You knew that the old oak tree outside your office window was going to drop its leaves next week. The winter would come, and you would watch it happen as it always does, with the weather always keeping the rhythm of the seasons in perfect tempo.
Some people found this kind of thing monotonous, struggling under the weight of their own sameness. To them, the idea of returning to the same breakfast, the same commute, the same job, over and over again sounded like a kind of prison sentence. Gyms have beared witness to failed attempts at developing strong habits, people giving them up when the repetition becomes too much to bear.
They were packed at the beginning of January, a bunch of New Year's resolutions half-heartedly kept for a while, and Thanksgiving dinner not quite forgotten before life interrupted. But the treadmills would empty out, and by late February, it would be like they were never occupied in the first place.
Kofi loved having the space to himself. No competition for the elliptical or the cross trainer. No one using the pull-up bar or trying to sneakily claim a set of hand weights that he'd already mentally put aside. He'd often joke to the other guys in the gym that he should have a reserved sign for his favorite treadmill, the one in front of the TV, so he could catch up on the news or follow his beloved Arsenal.
The gym was typically his and his alone at 6:45am, but a quick check of the parking lot before entering showed us that today would surprisingly be different.
"Just three more reps, Beyoncé, you can do it," Kofi said encouragingly. "Make sure to keep that core tight."
The bar seemed cumbersome and ungainly in my small hands. I grunted as I struggled to pull myself up for the 28th time, counting off the reps as I went.
It seemed as though my time on the pole made me regain the strength I had from running track for some basic calisthenics, but not enough to make me confident that I could go the distance.
"Last one."
I hoisted myself up and dropped back down in a huff, smiling at the physical accomplishment, even though my arms felt like limp spaghetti.
"Damn, bitch, you gettin' stronger. Last time we did this, you busted your ass four times before giving up," Robyn laughed, going over to the water fountain to fill up her new Hydroflask.
I chuckled and waved her off. "At least I ain't go flyin' off the treadmill like last time, goofy."
She returned to us, taking a sip. She shrugged and pursed her lips. "Mmcht. Like mi nuh cyar bout dat," she mumbled, feigning disinterest. "Paul, how you feeling?"
