The Physique Show
“Are you here for the physique show?”
I turned to look at the woman who was in line behind me.
What the hell is a physique show? I wondered.
“My son is in the physique show, that’s why we’re here.” She beamed with pride and nodded toward her husband who was wearing seventeen pieces of luggage strapped across his chest.
“Oh. No. I’m. Writer’s conference. That’s…why. For me.
I’m not good at talking to strangers. I pick the wrong words and put them in the wrong order.
“That’s nice.” She approved.
The Marriott in Lancaster, PA was busy last weekend. The writing conference offered sessions on limiting implicit bias, effective query letters, and third-person POV. There were story slams and flash fiction seminars. I led a workshop on how mindfulness can improve writing skills and quiet the inner critic. And when I wasn’t doing that, I was learning about physique shows.
This is a physique show:
Everywhere I went at the hotel, giant orange men (and a few women, but mostly I saw men) were anxiously preparing to show their physiques. This was a national qualifier, by the way, so the stakes were high. It was intense.
They waited in line at the pop-up booth to put yet another layer of orange spray tan on their bodies that were barely contained by tiny silk robes.
They stood in corners of the lobby, facing the wall, adjusting their speedos and practicing their poses. They loitered in the hallways with abs so sharp they should come with a warning to not operate them if you were under the influence.
They were so thrilled to see each other after what I assume has been years of covid-imposed non-physique show time. They hugged each other with enthusiasm, even though they could not really get their arms around each other because of the sheer bulk involved.
I got in the elevator with one guy who was holding a four-foot-long sword. “Can you believe they got upset when I unsheathed this on stage?” He asked me, his New Jersey accent burning a hole in my eardrums.
I shook my head.
“I mean, what do they think I’m going to do with a sword if I’m not going to brandish it?”
My writer’s mind wondered if I had ever heard someone use the word brandish in an elevator.
“It seems the only thing to do with a sword in that situation is to brandish it.” I agreed.
I mean, I was alone in an elevator with a gigantic man with a sword. Agreeing with him seemed the wisest thing to do.
There were so many reasons that this whole physique show situation delighted me, beyond the chiseled abs. It reminded me that when I actually summon the courage to leave my house and do something out in the world, I can be introduced to new things. I can learn. I can have experiences that I never expected.
But even more than that, it was a clear reminder that there are a billion ways to be in the world. We all have our own strange things that we’re into. Our own fascinations, interests, and proclivities. And there are others out there with whom we can share that. We can find that community and feel that joy.
So, for me, the guidance is clear:
Find your weird people.
Do your weird thing.
We have a short time on this earth. Might as well brandish that sword.
Here’s what else happened this week:
What I watched three times
I talked in a previous newsletter about how much I was enjoying The Bear on Hulu. And then I got to episode 8.
I’m now obsessed.
Jeremy Allen White’s seven-minute monologue is ASTONISHING. Six minutes of it is ONE TAKE. I don’t get caught up in worshiping the craft of acting — I had more of that by the age of 16 than anyone needs in a lifetime. But this scene, this performance, this writing, the fact that it’s a static shot — all of it just floored me. It is not often that I feel like the character is truly searching for their next words. Give him all the awards.
(This scene kind of explains the entire show, so it’s kind of maybe a spoiler? I still think it’s worth watching regardless, but don’t get mad at me if you feel like it’s a spoiler because I did warn you.)
What I read
So, the science has happened it seems that the consensus is in: spiders dream. This makes me so happy. I really like to ruminate on what spiders dream about. Hunting? Flying? Scaring people? I have spent way too much time on this.
What I related to
It does not matter how much I love you, if I see you unexpectedly in public, I will duck behind something. Just did it yesterday, in fact.
Please let me explain what that looks like with this armadillo video:
What I am grateful for
I got so many lovely responses to my newsletter last week about August 12. It was a challenging one for me to write, and I was touched by your kindness and support. Thank you. (In case you missed it - here you go.)
What is next
We are less than two weeks away from the Mision Flexible Veteran mindfulness retreat in Texas! You can support my nonprofit and look like a badass with Mission Flexible gear. Shirts, stickers, and water bottles are now available here - and 100% of the profits go to providing retreats for Vets who are dealing with physical and emotional injuries from their time in service.
Thank you for reading, friends. Get out there and get weird.
Much love,
~Lisa