Day 284: Gym Diaries Part 2

     To pass the time along, I stare out at the different machines.  A man in his fifties grimaces as he pushes against the bars of one machine.  A personal trainer, easily spotted by her red V-neck mesh top, stands nearby to instruct her client how many more reps he has to do on the rowing machine.  Her hair has been dyed blond and is done up in a high ponytail with ample hairspray.  Her mascara looks perfect, her black capris show off her fit figure, and her clean tennis shoes almost shine.  I stare down at the other shoes people are wearing.  Nike, Asics, Nike again.  One pair is hot pink, another neon tie-dye.  All of them look barely used.  I lift my head back to the GX room door and see people slowly filing out.  Their clothes are drenched from collar to pant hems in sweat, and they look like someone punched them, mouths hanging open and stumbling out.  Some members start walking in before everyone has left the room, interrupting the last minute of stretching.  As I follow the line, I can see the windows and mirrors are all fogged up from the high intensity aerobics workout that finished.  When I walk in, the atmosphere changes from breezy air conditioning to a muggy, foul stench.  I bite my bottom lip as I walk, wishing I could stay out in the fresh air.

     The GX room, or group exercise room where all the classes are held, is a long empty room with mirrors on three of the walls and weights and steps on the fourth one.  I choose a spot right next to the stereo so I can help the instructor- my mom- with the music.  Weight plates are already clanking together, and steps slam to ground, clapping onto the risers.  I wait for a skinny young woman- not much bigger than the barbell she’s holding- to set up her barbell before I grab the plates I need.  I select a set of 10 pound plates, two fives- an arm reaches across my face to grab a plate.  I bite my tongue to suppress my quickly sprouted irritation and carry my equipment to my spot.

     “Alright, everybody, it’s Body Pump time!” my mom cheerfully announces as she walks to her bench at the front of the room.  “Pick up your bar and stand in set position with feet underneath your hips.”