Jen here again! One of my favorite (if not my absolute favorite) things in this world is attending concerts. The bass that pumps through your chest, the music so loud that it drowns out any and all worries you have, the way the crowds move and sing together, making you feel a part of something bigger than yourself, and, of course, the opportunity to see your favorite musicians in person- it’s a healing and exhilarating experience. Until a few years ago, I had been to maybe three big concerts in total, and those were when I was a teenager (thank you, Mom, for taking me to see Green Day in Nashville and for gifting me Marilyn Manson tickets when I was a teenager, I have always appreciated the amount of support you’ve given me for the things I love!). If you’ve read my other blog posts, you know that I used to be pretty overweight and never exercised, uncomfortable physically, and was beginning to have some health problems associated with lack of movement and weight gain that started in my mid-20s. Once I began my fitness journey, it was like the world opened up to me and was full of possibilities. Part of it was the fact that I felt more comfortable and strong, part of it was that I was more mentally well and self-confident (which had nothing to do with weight loss in itself). I started doing more things I wanted to do, and one of those things was attending more concerts! Why is functional fitness an important part of my concert-going experience? I thought you would never ask.
On my first and only (so far!) trip out of the country in 2019, I saw Die Antwoord at O2 Brixton in London with my good friend (who made that trip happen, thank you, T!) We were at the rail (for anyone that does’t know, that’s right at the very front in front of the stage) for Die Antwoord, which was crazy. We walked to the show, I jumped and danced the entire time, and we held our own to keep our spot up front. At the time, I thought, “I am glad I started working out. I’m not sure I could do this for three hours straight if I hadn’t.” That day, I remembered how important live music was to me and how much I was proud of myself for caring about my physical fitness, which allowed me to enjoy it to the best of my ability. Concerts keep me sane these days, after all, and since they hold such a special place in my heart, I go into each one fully intending to make it the best day of my life. Last week, when I attended a show where I felt like I had to (pretty literally) fight for my life, I realized, yet again, that one of the reasons I love functional fitness is how practicing it regularly improves my concert experience. It got me thinking of how different things would have been for me at the other shows I’ve been to if I had never started my fitness journey. Because even if I’m not in the middle of an angry, surging crowd, almost every show I’ve been to in the last few years was made better by the fact that I was not stuck in the miserable mental and physical state I had been in before I started my fitness journey.
The next big show I went to after Die Antwoord in London was Green Day, The Interrupters, Weezer, and Fallout Boy with my mom, Phil, and my sisters in 2021 (postponed from 2020; obviously, that year was a bust) at Wrigley. We were in the bleachers for that one, so it wasn’t physically demanding. However, we did walk around Chicago, which may have tired me at some point before I started my fitness journey (again, I was in quite the state for a while).
The next show I went to was a little more physically demanding. My sister and I saw Green Day again in 2022 at the Metro, where we were at the rail (we were lucky to get tickets at all, much less be in the front!). We got shoved around a lot, but there was a lot of jumping and pushing back against the crowd. It was mostly polite compared to other shows, however (as far as a small venue show with a big band goes). During that show, I appreciated my body’s ability to sustain that kind of movement and resistance for the duration of the show and thanked my past self for where I was on my fitness journey.
The next year, in 2023, my partner and I attended Louder than Life. This Louisville rock festival is on their fairgrounds, and it is huge. I started training for a 5k that year prior to the festival, which served me well. Despite the fact that I was working through a hip injury and was healing a sprained ankle when the festival days arrived, I was still able to walk around A LOT (probably about 11 miles a day). We didn’t push to the front of the crowd at LTL, mostly because I felt like I would get hurt more than I already was, and my partner was looking for a chiller experience. Honestly, I was fine with that. That doesn’t mean I didn’t make a fool of myself dancing. I did, and I did so with gusto. Also, for some reason, whenever I took a bathroom break, one of the bands would start playing one of my favorite songs, so there was a lot of booking it back and forth (while cursing my luck under my breath). I had the pleasure to see Flogging Molly, Corey Taylor, Tool, Queens of the Stone Age, Mega Death, The Interrupters, Godsmack, and yes, Green Day again, among many more. Of course, we were tired after an entire day out in the sun dancing and jumping around, but had I not injured my hip the month before, I would have been totally fine. By the way, if you are short, start doing calf raises now. When you aren’t in the front, boy, do you do a lot of standing on your tippy toes. After Louder than Life, I promised myself I would continue attending at least one concert a year for the rest of my life if I could, and I wouldn’t miss the chance to see bands I love if I could help it. Attending shows is one of the ways that I practice self-care. So here I am, in the middle of concert season (possibly going a bit overboard with the number of shows I have this year), again considering how important functional fitness is to me and my experiences.
Now that I’ve ranted for a while let me tell you about last week. On the 13th of August, I saw Green Day with The Smashing Pumpkins and Rancid (and the Linda Lindas, who rocked, by the way; they are literally like 12 years old- very impressive) with my sisters at Wrigley. It was an amazing trip, and the first trip that my sisters and I have taken alone. It was long overdue! (Before you say anything, yes, I do realize how ridiculous it is that I’ve seen Green Day five times now; I don’t know how it keeps happening). We had seats for that show, so there wasn’t any crowd craziness happening, but we did jump and dance the entire time. We walked about 10 miles that day, too, and took public transportation, which includes quite a few stairs, which isn’t an incredible feat, but it’s nothing to sneeze at, either. Past me would have hated it, but present me didn’t care. The next day, apart from a shaky voice from all the singing, I felt great. I said to myself, “Yep, I’m ready for the next one on Saturday.” I headed back to Champaign on Wednesday, chilled at home on Thursday, and it was back to Chicago on Friday with my partner.
Friday was easy. It was mostly walking around, trying to figure out what we wanted to do. We walked about 10 miles, but it was spread out a lot. We caught a blues band on a whim, which was pretty cool. Saturday, however, was a totally different vibe. I’ll start out by saying that I am not afraid of a mosh pit, nor am I afraid of the resistance that comes with being in the front of a crowd. I used to attend a lot of house shows and small punk and metal shows when I was younger, and enjoyed being in the pit. I’ve also seen Marilyn Manons before (with Slayer back in like 2007), and the crowd was not like it was on Saturday. Maybe it’s because we were at the Aragon, which is a really small venue for Manson, or, more likely, it was because he was with Slaughter to Prevail and had not toured in years. Regardless, let’s just say where we were in the crowd was rougher than I had imagined. Initially, Tim and I were going to try to get a spot on the balcony, far, far away from the pit. However, upon arrival, we were informed that the balcony was a VIP area, and you had to buy separate tickets for it, which were unavailable until the doors opened. We made some friends in line and ended up being towards the front of the line. Front of the line = front of GA = potential for being in the moshpit. I didn’t mind. In fact, I was pretty excited to be in that part of the crowd.
I’ll fully admit that I made a series of errors when considering our position in the crowd (towards the front and smack dab in the middle against the railing of the part of the stage that juts out from the main stage). I had also never heard Slaughter to Prevail’s music before. Turns out, they are a Russian Death-Core band (which was really cool, by the way). While they played, the crowd got psyched, and things started to get rough. People were crowd-surfing, and I got kicked in the head by someone (stiff as a board, guys, don’t be flailing around in the air). There was some pushing going on, but it wasn’t bad. My partner and I were actually having a great time.
That’s when the shit hit the fan (literally, apparently; we heard someone took a poop on the other side of the pit). Everyone was surging forward harder than I had ever experienced. Crowd crush is a real thing, and there were points at which I could not breathe. Each time I wanted to breathe, I had to push with my entire strength against the people in front of me and basically hold a plank position standing against the crowd. You had to plant your feet and brace your core, or you would get swallowed. If you are short like me, this is when you realize that you might be in trouble because your whole body, including your head, is being pressed so hard against other people that you realize you don’t have a lot of air left in you. This was the type of scene where if you fell, no one was going to pick you up. Every man for himself. This wasn’t even moshing, it was just thousands of people trying to push to the front, with no room between people for them to get there. I’m used to being around fans that look out for each other, even if it doesn’t look like it from the outside. Usually people care about the wellbeing of those around them, even in the pit. Not here, at least not in our section anyway. For example, there was a big dude behind me who was so drunk he was lying on top of me. Like completely enveloping my head with his upper torso. I was so proud of myself when I pushed him off of me. I couldn’t have done that six years ago.
I turned around and realized I was drifting farther away from my partner. I was fully overheating, and I was no longer enjoying the music. I decided that it was time to fight my way to the sidelines. That I did, but not without a lot of resistance. My partner followed a few moments later. I wasn’t the only one who decided it was time to get out of that section, either. In fact, one of the girls we met in line ended up being pulled over the rail by security for her own safety after my partner and I had already exited the pit. Apparently, the other side of the floor GA was much more chill, and they didn’t experience the same thing we did. But our section was rough, and I wasn’t going back in. I enjoyed the rest of the concert with a cold beer in one hand, and a cold water in the other, headbanging with some dudes from Minnesota, still as excited as I was when I got there.
That day, I was more thankful than ever that I was strong enough to hold my own. Lord knows I used to get pushed around like a rag doll when I was a teenager, and then when I was at my unhealthiest, I’m not sure I would have been able to hold out as long as I did. At the end of the day, I emerged without injury, and we just laughed it off. The only thing I experienced was some sore shoulder muscles from bracing myself for so long. And ya know, I’ll take that over the alternatives.
I guess the moral of this story is that you don’t have to be strong or on a fitness journey to enjoy a show. Everyone is different and has different priorities, and not everyone was once as physically unfit as I was. You might not even think about the physical aspects of a concert, and that’s great! I’m glad I started working out when I did, though, because before I started working out, I’m not sure I would have enjoyed these concerts as much as I do. I prefer opting for the long walks, sprinting around the festival, resisting the push of the crowd, dancing and jumping the entire time, seemingly having boundless energy (at least while I’m there), and feeling just fine the next day (mostly) despite it all. I know my body is capable of allowing me to have the most amount of fun possible, and to me, that is amazing. Now, it’s time to prep for Riot Fest in September and Die Antwoord (again) in October. Have a wonderful end of your summer, everyone, and thank you for indulging me as I rambled about my experiences.
P.S. Calf raises, planks, shoulder strengthening exercises, and resistance training might be a good idea if you plan on being in the pit. Just sayin!