Disclaimer: This isn't an essay about ripping one's shirt off...but yeah, that is briefly discussed to express other ideas.
For several years into running, once the humidity would reach 90% and higher, I would swelter in silence.
No matter the material, my shirt would soak through and keep my body heat firmly locked away from any hope of any cooling evaporation.
So, why wasn't I just peeling my shirt off and enjoying freedom away from a wet hot blanket? Well, because I'm not exactly chiseled out of marble and safely observing my ginger complexion requires the use of solar eclipse glasses.
During one dawn run, however, after my third round of wringing puddles out of my shirt, I decided enough was enough. Scanning the street for witnesses, I peeled back my shirt for the last time. Feeling the morning breeze rolling over my pasty, barely freckled shoulders, I hung my shirt off the back of my waistband, and started off in a jog down the street. I was "shirt-nek'ked" in public for the first time in my adult life.
Despite being a little past 6:30 AM, I still passed several folks starting up their mornings. And as I often do, I waved to them, and offered a smiling, "Good morning!"
Much to my surprise, they didn't gasp in horror. No children's eyes were covered by frightened mothers. Not at all. Replies ranged from polite waves and head nods to even melodious floatings of "Gooood moooorning!" from an elderly woman as she walked her schnauzers down a shady road.
More waves. More nods. Not quite the reception I expected.
As I crested a neighborhood hill, a realization crested my mind.
Nobody cares. Nobody cares.
As that realization rose and settled, a question followed it:
Why don’t they care?
The answer soon followed:
Because they’re too busy caring about they’re own stuff.
This epiphany on the streets of Tulsa, Oklahoma lightened my footfalls for those last miles of my running route, gently sloshed in my head on my drive home, and continued to hum to me during my shower.
Settling down to morning coffee and a quick scroll through any social media reactions to my run’s data on Strava—where the world’s modern runners' performances are weighed for public oogling (“If I don’t post my run on Strava, it’s like it didn’t happen!”)—any lack of kudos (Strava “likes”) transitioned from a perception of unimpressed apathy to liberated acceptance of the reality at hand—nobody cares because they’re too busy caring about themselves.
This sentiment carried over to an Instagram account, dedicated to my project of running every single street in Tulsa—when response is low.
Nobody cares. Why would they when they are too busy worrying about their own lives?!
I pocketed my phone with a grinning concluding, “hmmp!” and went about my day.
This realization is good news for us all, ok?
While the sentiment of “nobody cares about what I’m up to” may feel like the reflections of a lonely person, there are several reasons to pivot away from negative corresponding associations due to a lack of audience.
1. People don’t care but they’re also likely not judging you.
If a person judges you harshly, that still means they set aside some of their own attention to form an opinion of you or something about you. While this may happen from time to time, most of the time, you don’t even enter their thought process enough to proceed to the judgement zone.
So, no thoughts = no judgement = no worries.
2. If someone does notice and cares, they’re most likely inspired.
One of the biggest dilemmas facing overweight people getting into fitness is how they will be perceived by others. Whether they’re at the gym, out running, or however they need to get it done, most fear the judgmental glares of the fitness elite or folks just attempting to keep their lunch down.
Here are a few things to remember—
Firstly, as we discussed previously, honestly, nobody cares.
Secondly, if someone does happen to peek up from their smartphones long enough to see you jiggling by in a sweating, panting mess (I’m really just talking to myself at this point), if anything, they are thinking, “Look at this freakin’ champ over here. No, honestly—I don’t think I could do that.”
3. People not caring means you’re free to not care either…about what they think. Because they don’t.
In an age of social media addiction and people’s dopamine centers being torpedoed by likes, comments, shares, and all of the other signifiers of approval, accepting that nobody cares is one of the most powerful forms of mental liberation we can experience.
Just imagine the life we can lead if we accept that nobody cares about what we’re doing. Nobody is watching. The possibilities for living as our most authentic selves are limitless.
Nobody cares. That means you’re totally freakin’ free to do whatever the hell you want. Share it if you want, but the only performance indicator that matters is how you feel about what you’re doing now.
The only person we need to worry about impressing is ourselves. And those gains don’t have to be posted anywhere.
their own stuff, not "they’re own stuff."