Gym Hazing

A wonderful Christmas story tells of elves making shoes for saintly cobbler. I've always wanted the elves to visit me; mostly I want them to clean my room. What I forget is elves by nature are not kind. Mischievous suits them better. And I believe they visited me after the fairies in the Sugar House gym sent them my way through a curse.

Yes a curse. They threw it my direction when I waved my hand in dismissal to their siren wails of sales. In their eyes I was a sucker and in mine they were sucking away a short amount of time I had to work in a sweat. At the end of the work out the sweat wasn’t enough to wash away my annoyance and I may have snubbed the boys again on my way out. The result was a later regret and a more immediate lateness for my other engagements.

Fast forward to the present. Under similar time constraints I attempted another semi-session at the gym. Running in I my thoughts focused on the quickest way to change.

”OH, she’s back,” a snide voice interrupted.

I looked up and winced. The boys stood behind the counter with arms crossed and smirks on their faces. Friendly greetings must not be discussed in staff meetings.

“Thanks for nothing, what aren’t you going to do today,” another chimed in.

Really boys, get over the rejection.

“It’s always encouraging to come here,” I replied while hastily moving toward the locker room.

The safe haven turned out to be a nightmarish fun house. My gym bag had been tampered with. Never would I have packed spandex, yet no shorts appeared. I pulled on the tight pants and searched fruitlessly for a tank top. With my t-shirt and stretch bottom combination I felt a bit like a 60-year-old woman.

Contemplating the humiliation factor I lost precious minutes talking myself into staying. A few minutes on the bike and goal accomplished, I win. I reached for my shoes. My left foot glided in and something felt wrong. I looked down and noticed that I’d brought my old shoes that effectively suck. Damn. Still I would not leave before I sat on that bike. With defiance I mentally prepared for the bloody heels that would follow.

I put my right shoe on and breathed a sigh of relief. I’d not looked close enough and might need more sleep I thought as I laced up my foot-friendly Asics. I might look a fool but my feet would be safe. I stood with a brief half-smile before I felt the uneven, unbalanced and a distinct difference in shoe. My eyes downcast I saw the ugliness of my old shoe contrasted against the hopeful new shoe. Tricked for the third time I resigned.

I was about to change and leave the gym all together until I looked up and saw a manly woman staring at me. I can’t be sure if it was self pride or pure terror, but I boldly left the locker room and marched to the bikes. After the fifth attempt I found one that worked and with straight shoulders I pushed through the twenty minutes I had left. Maybe the gym fairies won.