I Became That Man

All my life the thing grounding me has been exercise.

Crow’s Feet Prompt #44

It’s always been hard for me to sit still.

My father, an ex pro football player, saw this as a positive and enrolled me in organized sports at a very early age. He even coached a few teams that I was on when there weren’t any other fathers (or mothers) stepping up.

Of all the possible things in which to excel as a child, mine was sports, organized exercise.

It started as fun and games as a kid; it became competition as a teen and a young man; it progressed as a contest with only myself when I obtained my first gym membership those many years ago.

All the while, exercise has been emotionally stabilizing as well as physically satisfying with a side benefit of being a source of connecting with like minded individuals.

Throughout my lifetime it has been a constant upon which I could rely.

Willie and Me

I was in my early 50s and had been a member of a Center City, Philadelphia gym for a number of years.

I usually worked out in the early mornings on weekdays along with most of the younger professionals. Because I was in the real estate business my hours were a bit more flexible than many of the 9 to 5 professionals. I could stay a little later until the time when many of the retirees whiled away the late morning between sets of curling five pound dumbbells and 30 minute rides to nowhere on the recumbent bikes.

My friend Willie was an artist who was about my age. He had no work schedule to adhere to so he was often at the gym with me and the retirees. We’d hang out and make make comments on what it must be like to be old and what we considered feeble.

We never gave it a thought that, if lucky, we’d be those retirees someday.

Most of the seniors worked out lightly and briefly before classes began in yoga, spin and swimming.

There was a man, however, that didn’t do any of those old guy things.

Willie and I marveled at his dedication to exercise in spite of his fragile appearance. He’d peddle as fast as he could on the recumbent bike, get his long thin pistons pumping on the elliptical and actually did some modest lifting.

“Nah,” was his answer when we, out of curiosity, asked him why he wasn’t in the group exercises with the rest of the retirees, “ Never liked to be told how to work out.”

He was a friendly fellow who we got to know better over the ensuing months.

All the while the guy kept a steady routine visiting the gym Monday, Wednesday and Fridays to do his “old man work outs” as Willie and I referred to them. Once there, he’d go through his paces and often shoot the shit with Willie and me.

We found out he was 80 years old!

How can a man 80 years old enjoy working out as he seemed to do we wondered? Being 80 seemed so ancient to us 50 somethings.

“How can he enjoy anything?” we joked.

I Am That Man

Willie died a good decade ago.

If I may be crass, unfortunately, his demise didn’t positively affect the value of the paintings he sold me. They continue to be kept in a rented storage closet in the basement of the condo building. The walls of my unit remain covered with family pictures.

I no longer am a gym member.

I do continue to exercise regularly on the recumbent bike and the elliptical I keep in the spare bedroom. My weight bearing training is relegated to five pound power-lifts having exhausted myself following a half hour on each of the machines.

I’m then free to do nothing physical the rest of the day.

Ya know what?

I enjoy life!

Take that you 50 year olds!

Keep exercising; you’ll live and learn, just like I did— if you’re lucky.

My thanks to Robin James for the challenging prompt.

Also gratitude extended to Michele Cambardella for the helpful and prompt edit.