Week 3 Theme

Cellars are often known for being a few degrees cooler then the rest of the building, not this one. Red floor mats stretch out the length of the concrete floor. Two a/c’s rest in the front widows of this daylight basement, but so often unused, it’s possible they are broken. Weights, jump ropes, medicine balls line the far right wall; a punching bag hangs in the front right corner and an multi compact disk player rests to the far left near the main door. Four metal chairs are nestled among a cluster of flip-flops, sandals and sneakers.

“All right everyone; let’s warm up with a light jog around the room. Get those hearts pumping!” shouts the ATA fit instructor.

(She is way to chipper. I really should have stretched first – oh god my legs are killing me already!)

“Kick those legs up! Jog like there’s a fire under your feet!” said the only male participant.

(Who does he think he is? Would someone please turn up the music and drown that jerk out!)

“Grab a medicine ball, down on the floor for 20 sit-ups!” shouts the instructor.

(It’s like a hundred degrees in here and we are only six minutes into the work-out…turn on the a/c!)

The man speaks again, “Full sit-ups! Crunches are for wimps!”

“I’m trying sir!”

“Trying! I don’t want to hear your trying! I want to see you doing!”

(Can’t someone shut that ass up! He’s not the instructor, but it looks like he thinks he is…I know – those a/c’s might be good for something after all! One crammed down his throat and one crammed up his…)

“Now, flip on to your bellies and do as many push-ups as you can in one minute!”

(She must have been a drill sergeant in her past life…one, two – rest a few, three…floor – ahhhh)

“Get up – off your knees! No sissy push-ups on my time!”

A lady speaks out, “This isn’t your time bud.”

(Finally, someone speaks up! Why didn’t I think of that? Oh that’s right – I’m breathing too hard to even try to mutter out anything; well, I think I’m still breathing – wheezing maybe.)

“Enough chit chat ladies, time for jump ropes!”

(Ha, she called him a lady too! God, I hate jump ropes…think she’ll notices if I don’t swing the rope.)

That small black and white clock on the wall is ticking slowly away like a time bomb. A loud Chevy 4x4 pulls up to the front and three more ladies join this ‘Sweatin’ to the Oldies’ work-out; the only thing missing now is Richard Simmons. In the back left corner, a toilet flushes and a fourth participant walks out carrying a floor fan.

“Lunge time ladies!”

“I want to see those legs lifted and those knees hitting the floor!” says the man.

“Woo hoo!” shout the new arrivals.

(Ya…freaking woo hoo, if you were here from the beginning you wouldn’t be woo hoo-ing. )

“Mountain climbers everyone!”

Everyone drops in unison in a push-up position and lunges one knee up under chest – one knee down – switch. Faster and faster they climb; in spite of the waves of spandex, they resemble soldiers in training.

“Up into squats ladies!”

“Did you stop at any of the yardsales on the way here?” one lady asks another.

(How can she talk? Why isn’t she out of breath? And why isn’t that damn floor fan turned on!)

Sixty minutes, eighty sit-ups, a hundred push-ups and god knows how many lunges later…

“Pick up those jump ropes! Almost done!”

“I love jump roping!” says one.

“Oh wow – me too!” another says.

“I think I could jump rope all day!” the instructor exclaims.

(Ya, well, I lost my jump rope and this floor mat is lumpy.)

“Last round – let’s end this with a light fifteen minute sprint around the room!”

(What ever happened to cooling down and stretching? Hey, I don’t hear that jerk anymore.)

A hazy, sweaty atmosphere seems to linger above our heads. The temperature has reached all time highs and the floor mats glisten with smeared beads of sweat. There is something different about the room; weights are still there, ac’s still untouched, music still blaring, shoes still scattered – ah but the chairs are no longer empty; a hunched over, sweaty, breathless man rests in one.