Workout Music

a crucial component of movement-with-intention

Oct 16, 2022

I’m going to remind anyone new (and hello! thrilled to have you here) because I occasionally have to remind myself that the original purpose of this newsletter was to announce, process, catalogue, and get solidarity in the near-daily occurance of someone saying something absurd and ableist to me out there on the street. It kept happening and happening — and happening, and happening — and finally I decided that I was no longer satisfied sharing it all with my carefully-chosen close support system. I’m an activist and a performer: it was time to zoom out and write it all in the sky, Wicked Witch style.

But lately — put this down to confidence or working out or a newfound “do not fuck with me” vibe or the simple magic of turning 39, no way to know — not a soul has said anything ableist to me on the street. I used to tell my stories one-on-one to non-disabled people on the phone and would often get (all right, not just non-disabled, nonmarginalized, let’s keep that clear) the response, “He SAID that to you?!” “Wait, she SAID that?! She really SAID that?!”

It’s amazing what people who register as “normal” and/or “nonthreatening” to the society they were born into don’t believe people can say, but at this moment, the montage of relatively benign oppression I’ve experienced thus far isn’t in my mind, and what is, likely because I was at the at the gym less than 12 hours ago, is the sonic phenomenon of workout music.

Workout music is not like other music. It is not for feelings and memories, it is not for deep thought or cultural understanding. It is to get you moving, and keep you moving. I vary up my workout music a bit, but my evergreen work-your-abs anthem is this:

I just deleted a whole analysis I had of this song. This is not a song intended to be analyzed. Rapper Saweetie actually commands, “Get active,” and that is what this song compells the listener to do, let’s not bog it down.

Then there’s the song that I literally cannot work out without, and of course it’s the one I’m loathe to admit I need or am ever listening to. But it’s time to own who we are. In every moment that I get that odd gym-specific once-over from someone stepping off the elevator while I’m on the ab machine, this, inevitably, is what’s keeping me on task:

There can be variation between these two motivational starters and the cool-down period. It’s a lot of early 90’s R&B, usually, or it’s the occassional 80’s arena anthem, or it’s something more contemporary that’s obviously attempting to sound like one or both of these. But the ultimate cool-down song, in my opinion, is the serene, surreal “Bottomfeeder,” by Amanda Palmer. A fan once told her that this was their favorite song on her album, “Theatre is Evil,” and asked what it was about. She said she didn’t know.

What do you listen to at the gym, or on runs, or whatever you people do to keep moving? Is it the same music you listen to at other points of your day/week? Are you embarrassed to let people know? I used to be, funnily enough, and then I remembered, we’re all friends here.