November 28, 2011

Workout Dignity

My main reason for joining a gym was that I needed a respectable place to work out. For many, many years I was gymless. My workouts consisted of pilates mat exercises, sporadic jogging, and those random toning workouts they present in womens' fitness magazines. I would do these in my living room (if no one was home, or in the privacy of my room, if someone was home). These random toning workouts also required cardio which I supplied by adding moves stolen from Flashdance and MC Hammer videos. When I lived in 834, Heidi always knew when I was "working out" because I would disappear into my room, weird thumping noises would commence (as I bounced around my room with weights in my hands), and I would reappear with a red face and disheveled hair. It was not for the eyes of others.

I knew I was going to have to relinquish my secret workouts once Sam and I moved in together, but that was a small price to pay. I mean, I enjoyed them, but my dignity was worth maintaining. Working out at the gym is like a pantomime of exercise. The smooth glide of the elliptical trainer, the effortless slide of weights on cables. Those machines are made for maintaining your cool in public. You can't come back from Donkey Kicks. You can't come back from the Twister combined with the 5-pound weight Fist Pump (patent pending).

I'm not sure what happened this weekend, but the illusion came crashing down. Perhaps we were both still drunk from the toddler-thigh-sized maple bars we consumed earlier that day at the Huckleberry Inn, but I suddenly found myself doing team ab workouts with Sam, to a mix he had created (it seems solely for the purpose of working out) and suddenly all bets were off. He was doing these manic pushup things while I danced around with hand-weights to Jerk it. Red Fang came on and we were both headbanging and leaping around the living room. We suddenly traded and he was spinning around in circles with the hand-weights while I lunged around with my hands on my hips. It could only be described as a diabolical workout frenzy.

And we shared it. He may never look at me the same, but at least he knows.

2 comments:

colleen k.d. said...

Oh my god you guys rule!


p.s. can we work out again?

Rachel Wrong said...

Colleen. We're thinking about making a couples workout video. Should we put you on the distribution list?