I had an opportunity to visit the gym where I started my fitness journey, decades ago. The lobby decor was brighter, and it had a more welcoming feel to it. The small area, where I waited for my daughter to finish whatever activity she was engaged in at the time, still felt diminutive, and remained untouched, which gave it an incongruent feel.
There were so many new faces, but I recognized some of the old staff, although they gave no indication that they remembered me. As I walked down the stairs leading to the gym, memories began flooding in. I was eager to get to the last step, but became disappointed as I entered the corridor.
On one of the walls used to be pictures of all the trainers employed at the gym and their certifications. Little did I know when I started my fitness journey, I would one day become one of them. I wanted to see the familiar faces, but the corridor now had pictures replete with messages of Health & Wellness.
I remembered the layout of the gym. You saw the training area first as you entered. To the right was the cardio zone. On the opposite side was all the machines. I don’t recall it being so congested. From the looks of it all the machines were haphazardly thrown in that section.
I quickly walked through and made my way to free weights area. Everything looked the same, except I noticed the dumbbells now went up to 150lbs.
I noticed an old familiar face. It was one of the Floor Trainers. Many times, when I came to work out, he had handed me a towel. I smiled and politely said hello. He replied, but gave no indication that he knew me.
I took a deep breath and sighed, recollecting with great fondness, the countless hours spent in this gym. The trials and tribulations of trying to change my physique. Watching others more fit at the time, lifting heavy weights, while secretly wishing I could do the same.
Strange, I never contemplated taking a personal trainer. More resigned to doing it on my own. How quickly could I have progressed if I had. I know it now, but back then, I thought there was nothing to lifting weights.
How difficult could it be?
The folly of being brash and misinformed. If I could go back, I would tell the younger version of myself, stop being inept and work with a professional.
I was just about finish with my tour of the gym . . .
“Oh my God! What did you do?”