Eye of the Beholder

I rolled out of bed this morning, pulled on my shoes (and a few other items of clothing) with the goal of tackling my upper body at the gym. I want guns like Michelle Obama. It’s free-weight day, baby.

Holey moley. Got to the gym and the weight area was mobbed with burly, scowling and grunting muscle-bound men with can’t-look-away tattoos. Was it he-man day at the fitness center? Yup, it appeared so. They all had those cliched meaty paws that could easily double as snow shovels. One guy was pummeling the heavy bag with his bare fists.

What could I do but extend my warmup on the elliptical, thinking they’d leave soon.

After 30 minutes they were still there.

I was kinda hungry by then, so thought about skipping my upper body workout and heading home for bacon and eggs. But, hey. It’s MY gym too.

So I MUSCLED my way in and grabbed a couple of impressive 8-lb. weights and grunted along with the body builders. When I increased my poundage while flat on my back on the bench, I struggled a little to pick up the hand weights from the floor next to the bench. Embarrassing!

Suddenly the burliest of the tatted-up, intimidating guys came over and bared his teeth. (I thought he was about to let out a mwahahahaha laugh.) But, nooooo. He offered a shy smile. And offered to spot me.

Lesson for the day: Intimidation is all in the mind. The book cover does not always reveal what’s inside. Keep an open mind and an open heart.

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