The GYM

Rubber mats combined with citrus-scented cleaning products, the sounds of clinking weights, the wooshing of rowing machines, the hum of treadmills, and classic rock music bring back memories of our gym. At fifty-eight, four years before the pandemic, attending the gym regularly was integral to my weekly schedule.

Until August 2019, I lived in a quaint Florida beach town and could walk or ride my bike to our local gym a little over a mile away. I’ve never before been a “gym person,” but I needed to do something to get back in shape. 

I had recently left my management position at an antique mall to spend more time at home and felt somewhat lost searching for what was next for me. Before that, I worked long hours and stuffed myself with comfort food whenever I had a free moment. In addition, I had a couple of booths within the mall and would scout around at yard sales on weekends to keep the merchandise filled. I was always on the go but hadn’t prioritized my health.

 I had put on a few pounds. 

Although I could have easily ignored the building next door while I shopped at our local grocery store for wine and calorie-rich food, the gym’s floor-to-ceiling glass windows spotlighted healthier residents exercising, not eating, which taunted me. 

So, when I finally had more free time than excuses, I decided to check out the local gym. Upon entering, I was greeted with smiles and given instructions on operating the machines on the circuit, which I began using two or three times a week.

After about a month, though, I was already bored with my routine.  

 As I completed my repetitions at each machine, I saw ladies gathered in groups of three to five, talking about their lives and planning get-togethers. I thought of some of the cliques in my high school and felt like an outsider, but I quickly reminded myself that I wasn’t there to socialize. I was there to get back in shape and do something good for myself. 

 Since I had been working for a few years in a neighboring town, I was a virtual stranger to the residents of my own beach community. I knew just a handful of people, mostly neighbors and a few familiar faces at businesses I frequented.

I had noticed a spirited lady, perfectly toned, tanned, and without an ounce of fat, who looked like she had stepped out of a Sport-Illustrated magazine. She wore vibrant activewear with a matching Apple Watch band and coordinating tennis shoes. She was always smiling, had a great laugh, and knew everyone there by name.

 She was a personal trainer and used the gym to work out with clients.    

I found out from the desk that her name was Matty. She was well-loved and highly recommended by everyone in the gym. I saw her in the parking lot heading towards her car and asked if she would be willing to train me and, if so, what that would entail. 

She smiled big and said she had been watching me, too. She thought I was doing great with my routine and consistently doing the right things. 

"Give your routine a little more time, and if you still want my help with training, let me know."

A couple of weeks later, we worked together two days a week and formed a fast friendship that has survived distance and time. Matty makes everyone feel special, encouraging them to try a little harder and know they can do anything if they keep at it. 

It felt good to feel good about myself again. 

 Thanks to Matty and that gym, I could be in shape, which I was so proud of for my son's wedding, which Matty and her husband attended as our family. 

Matty is one of those rare, remarkable individuals who makes you feel special just by being around her. Because of her, I, too, knew more people at the gym and in my town and was invited to some of those get-togethers I had heard other ladies talking about.

The gym became a “fun” place to go mentally, socially, and physically. Who knew that could ever happen?

As mentioned at the outset of this post, eight years have passed. When we first moved to the opposite coast of Florida, I joined a nearby gym, also within walking distance, and went there weekly. Unfortunately, yet understandably, the pandemic closed the facility six months later.  

I have free weights up to 25 pounds at home, bands, a yoga mat, YouTube videos, and even complete an occasional Zoom workout with Matty, who now lives across the country, but I am not as motivated by myself as I used to be when going to the gym. I miss the camaraderie of being with others striving to improve their health and shape. 

I am a consistent walker, but here in Florida, it has been so hot that after five minutes outdoors, you feel like you need a shower. It is no longer a pleasant experience. 

So, this week, I went to another gym. It is more of a workout space, with classes that include free weights, bands, mats, etc., all for people like me, over fifty, who want to keep in shape and have fun doing it. It lacks the rubber and sweat smell, but that is fine with me. 

After completing a circuit involving lunges, I feel my legs telling me I'm in the right place. I’m looking forward to more. 

Who would have thought I’d love going to a gym? 

 Not me, not ever. But I do. Thanks, Matty. You are such an inspiration. We are friends for life. 

What about you? Do you like to work out at home or the gym? Have you met great friends there?  

Do you enjoy yoga, free weights, Zumba classes, or Pilates? Do you go on a nice walk in nature? Do you always feel better after you do some exercise?

 I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments.

Here’s to our continued health and great friendships! 

Thanks for reading! 

Keeping smiling! 

xx