Misery loves company

A couple of years ago I joined my good friend, Chris, at a volleyball tournament in Reno, NV.  If you haven't been there, Reno is known as a little Las Vegas; providing multiple ways to take people to the edge of "safe" and push them off.  Some people take gambling risks, while others take risks relationally.  Chris wanted to take a physical risk by being hoisted three stories backwards into the air, until she was level with the flimsy bar her cord was attached to, then essentially sent flying through the air like superman.  I guess the best way to describe this crazy contraption is to imagine a 3 story high swing set and being given the biggest underdog of your life. 

Since misery loves company, Chris was exceptionally motivated to convince me to join her on this swing set, in the dark of night, three stories in the air.  Realizing that our friendship was on the line, and since she had really good solutions for all my arguments against going, I joined her on the swing.   

Although we both practically peed our pants in flight and in fright, in the end we were really proud we did it.  The best part, is that we shared the experience and will always remember that we did it together.

What's this have to do with exercising?   For the last 10 days, my husband, Tim, has been (relatively :) faithfully joining me in my exercising.  When I complained about sore muscles, he felt my pain quite literally.  When I couldn't get up off the floor at the end of the routine, he was able to empathize with me.   This morning my husband went out of town and I exercised without him.  It was harder than I expected to get through the DVD.  There was no one to commiserate with, and no one to encourage, or to be encouraged by.  

Misery loves company.  It's true.  But it's not because we wish misery on others.  Chris didn't want me to suffer on the swing and I don't want Tim to hurt from the exercise nazi.  It's because, when we are together, even misery can be a blessing.