Gym Dandy

Exercising my rights. And my lefts.

     I’m not a “gym” person yet I work out five days a week. Maybe “work out” is too strong a word for what I do at the fitness center. My daily routine consists mostly of pedaling the exercise bike while I catch up on my reading. My physical therapist suggested to avoid painful Cortisone injections every six months, I should find activities to keep my knee joints flexible. So far so good, although my gym experience leaves a lot to be desired.

     I'm a member of the fitness center in the building where I work. For only $20 a month I get to enjoy a telephone-booth-size locker room, complete with no towels. I don’t mind the towel shortage as I don’t sweat enough to need a shower after my so-called workout. The small changing area feels crowded when there are two people in it. With three patrons present, it's an uncomfortable, elbow-bumping game of Twister trying to maneuver into a space to tie my sneakers. I get more exercise changing my clothes at super-speed than I do during my official workout in the gym. I'm already out of breath before I start. 
     I do abdominal crunches while sitting on a large inflated workout ball. I try to balance as I put my hands behind my head and do as many half sit-ups as I can. Abs are over rated anyway. I prefer my six-pack from the bottom shelf of my refrigerator. 
     I hop on an empty stationary bike, the perfect vehicle to keep my knee joints moving with little impact. While pedaling, I'm also exercising my mind by reading books. The hardest part is ignoring the wall of televisions in front of me. Although the volume is muted, the closed-captions blare. Most of the

screens are tuned to sports channels broadcasting the latest game highlights and player scandals. On any given day you can see a bright-eyed Tom Brady and a stone-faced Bill Belichick recapping their latest triumph on the field. The other televisions broadcast soccer games and soap operas. Something for everyone. It’s all I can do to keep my nose in my book as I concentrate on reading and pedaling (in that order). 

     After thirty minutes of cycling through a couple of chapters, I move to the intimidating free weight area. I lift some weights while looking at the television’s backward reflection in the mirrors in front of me. Anything’s preferable than making eye-contact with myself in the mirror. I prefer not to watch myself lift light weights that shouldn’t be a struggle, but they are. I think it’s genetic, not lack of effort. In the mirror, I focus on the backs of the joggers on the treadmills as they run nowhere fast, trying to get ahead of themselves or trying to burn calories or trying to stay healthy. In reality, they are literally on a treadmill speeding headfirst into a wall of muted television screens filled by giant Dr. Phil heads and General Hospital’s drama of the day.

     I move to a flat mat on the floor to begin my self-created leg stretching exercises. I use a broken heavy-duty rubber strap that has been tied together after some sort of gymnasium mishap where someone definitely lost an eye when the device snapped. I wrap the band around the bottom of my sneaker and stretch my leg as high as I can. I pray the makeshift knot holding the strap together remains tied until I finish. As I stretch my legs I tell myself it's good pain.

     I end my workout with a series of leg presses. I pull out the pin from the bottom of the large rack of flat weights and move it up to a more manageable (lower) number, lowering my self esteem in the process. I ignore the crunching sound my joints make. By now my knees are killing me, my legs ache, and I wonder if a painful Cortisone injection is preferable to what I’m putting myself through during my daily routine. Finally, I’m off to the locker room, hoping I’ve timed my workout around the other people’s workouts so I can change my clothes and get out of there before the crowd. 

     I’ve had conversations with people who make the gym part of their life. They tell me no one likes exercising, but they like the results. For whatever reason, I will keep plugging away with my daily routine. I may be reaping benefits without even knowing it. If nothing else, I’m getting lots of reading done. I may not have the body of Arnold Schwarzenegger, but I bet my brain is in really good shape.