fears.
Olivia –
Yes, I’m still living in the area, working with a landscaping company downtown. I love this city too much to move away! Maybe we should get together and I could give you a tour of all my favorite places to visit in Boston. I’m sure you could use a refresher. Besides, i t would be great to have an exc use to see the sight s myself.
If you’re interested, let me know when you’re free next week.
Sean
What in God’s name am I doing? I hit delete so fast, it made my head spin. And then I wiped my sweaty palms back and forth on my pant legs. Back and forth. Like I was trying to start a fire or something.
The point of this experiment was to stay virtual, not arrange fake tours of the city I’d lived in since birth. No more contact with Sean.
No.
No more.
Don’t even think about it.
****
When the time came for my second trip to Tom’s Workout World, I felt more prepared for what was going to happen. Not only ha d I been doing some work at home on my own, but I was also properly dressed for the occasion. I wore special sweat-wicking clothing, a fancy hair band to keep fly-aways out of my face, and a new pair of shoes. I considered it all an investment in my future fitness. Even Claire seemed impressed with this show of commitment.
Tom, on the other hand, was about as impressed as I am when I eat my special “ diet breakfasts. ” He screamed and yelled as usual, while Claire went about her business like the guy she liked didn’t have a split personality disorder. I, on the other hand, found myself distracted by that bulging vein and covered in spittle. Just disgusting.
This time, we hauled ass on the elliptical machines for a bit, swung some really heavy ropes up and down, and then did military-style sit-ups. I thought I was going to throw up mid-way through the sit-ups, but somehow, I kept it together and made it through. I have to admit , if I could stand up and walk away from Tom’s workouts, I felt damn good about myself .
That day, it was rough going for a few minutes, but eventually I found my footing and changed my clothes in the locker room. Claire stayed out on the floor, flirting with Tom again. She didn’t need a change or a shower, probably, since she barely broke a sweat during all of that. Sometimes working out with Claire made me feel like a lazy three-toed sloth when I compared the two of us.
For my own sake, I tried not to compare myself to Claire. Neither in the gym nor anywhere else, for that matter. Life was much happier that way.
In the locker room, I dressed in my sweat-free clothes, a pair of jeans and a holey Buffy the Vampire Slayer t-shirt I couldn’t quite part with, and headed back out onto the floor to find Claire. On my way, I passed a pair of toned, muscly female trainers comparing notes on gym patrons they couldn’t stand. Nearby, there was an older woman working out with a guy that could’ve been Tom’s younger brother, based on his attitude. And then, at the treadmills, I saw Noah again.
He was wearing a plain navy blue t-shirt and a pair of gray jersey shorts—the kind of attire I’m sure most people would love to wear to work. On the treadmill, I saw a scrawny guy struggling to keep up his pace. Rather than take the harsh Tom-like approach, Noah was cheering him on.
“That’s it, Jim. Keep it up! Thirty more seconds. Twenty-nine…” Noah talked lo u d enough to be heard over the whirring of the machine, but he didn’t scream.
And instead of wincing, treadmill-bound Jim seemed really motivated to keep moving. They meshed—trainer and trainee. Jim got from Noah the tactics he needed to stay focused.
My trainer, on the other hand, was not exactly gelling with me. Not like that. I guess we all have our own way of being reached. If I’d learned anything from my two gym training sessions, it was that “my way” was not to be screamed
Olivia –
Yes, I’m still living in the area, working with a landscaping company downtown. I love this city too much to move away! Maybe we should get together and I could give you a tour of all my favorite places to visit in Boston. I’m sure you could use a refresher. Besides, i t would be great to have an exc use to see the sight s myself.
If you’re interested, let me know when you’re free next week.
Sean
What in God’s name am I doing? I hit delete so fast, it made my head spin. And then I wiped my sweaty palms back and forth on my pant legs. Back and forth. Like I was trying to start a fire or something.
The point of this experiment was to stay virtual, not arrange fake tours of the city I’d lived in since birth. No more contact with Sean.
No.
No more.
Don’t even think about it.
****
When the time came for my second trip to Tom’s Workout World, I felt more prepared for what was going to happen. Not only ha d I been doing some work at home on my own, but I was also properly dressed for the occasion. I wore special sweat-wicking clothing, a fancy hair band to keep fly-aways out of my face, and a new pair of shoes. I considered it all an investment in my future fitness. Even Claire seemed impressed with this show of commitment.
Tom, on the other hand, was about as impressed as I am when I eat my special “ diet breakfasts. ” He screamed and yelled as usual, while Claire went about her business like the guy she liked didn’t have a split personality disorder. I, on the other hand, found myself distracted by that bulging vein and covered in spittle. Just disgusting.
This time, we hauled ass on the elliptical machines for a bit, swung some really heavy ropes up and down, and then did military-style sit-ups. I thought I was going to throw up mid-way through the sit-ups, but somehow, I kept it together and made it through. I have to admit , if I could stand up and walk away from Tom’s workouts, I felt damn good about myself .
That day, it was rough going for a few minutes, but eventually I found my footing and changed my clothes in the locker room. Claire stayed out on the floor, flirting with Tom again. She didn’t need a change or a shower, probably, since she barely broke a sweat during all of that. Sometimes working out with Claire made me feel like a lazy three-toed sloth when I compared the two of us.
For my own sake, I tried not to compare myself to Claire. Neither in the gym nor anywhere else, for that matter. Life was much happier that way.
In the locker room, I dressed in my sweat-free clothes, a pair of jeans and a holey Buffy the Vampire Slayer t-shirt I couldn’t quite part with, and headed back out onto the floor to find Claire. On my way, I passed a pair of toned, muscly female trainers comparing notes on gym patrons they couldn’t stand. Nearby, there was an older woman working out with a guy that could’ve been Tom’s younger brother, based on his attitude. And then, at the treadmills, I saw Noah again.
He was wearing a plain navy blue t-shirt and a pair of gray jersey shorts—the kind of attire I’m sure most people would love to wear to work. On the treadmill, I saw a scrawny guy struggling to keep up his pace. Rather than take the harsh Tom-like approach, Noah was cheering him on.
“That’s it, Jim. Keep it up! Thirty more seconds. Twenty-nine…” Noah talked lo u d enough to be heard over the whirring of the machine, but he didn’t scream.
And instead of wincing, treadmill-bound Jim seemed really motivated to keep moving. They meshed—trainer and trainee. Jim got from Noah the tactics he needed to stay focused.
My trainer, on the other hand, was not exactly gelling with me. Not like that. I guess we all have our own way of being reached. If I’d learned anything from my two gym training sessions, it was that “my way” was not to be screamed
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