Thursday, August 18, 2005

The Toughest Guy in The Gym

As I’ve mentioned in a previous post or two, I work out four or five nights a week at a local fitness center. It’s one of the national chain outfits. The place is close to my home, it’s open late, the price is reasonable and it’s large enough that I never have to wait long to use a particular piece of equipment.

I go late at night, after Chris and Tommy are tucked in to bed. By the time I get there, between 9:00 and 9:30 pm, most of the crowd is gone. I see the same group of regulars; those people, like me, who for whatever reason find that this time of night is best for their schedule to work out.

The title of this post is not a reference to me. Not in my wildest dreams would I ever be considered to be The Toughest Guy in The Gym. No, I fall into the category of Old Guy Trying Desperately to Retain Some Semblance of Muscle Tone. On a good day I might sneak into the category of With Lots of Luck and Less Dessert He Might Once Again Fit Into His Pants. And once in a very great while, I spend an evening in the category of If He Were Ten Years Younger He Might Actually Lift That Barbell.

The days when I might even be in the running for Toughest Guy in The Gym are so far back in my rearview mirror I’ve forgotten what they look like.

But still, I’m a guy, and once in a while some testosterone makes an appearance in my system, and I start to look around and wonder, well, if not me, then who is the toughest guy in this gym?

There are some obvious candidates. The guy with the broad shoulders and narrow waist, who has such an extreme shoulder to waist ratio that he makes a 42 point Times New Roman capital letter V (Boldcase) appear to be an 8 point Tahoma lowercase letter u by comparison.

Or how about the guy with all the tattoos? He’s not huge, but very well defined, and in case you hadn’t noticed his body, he’ll use his colorful tats to draw attention to specific parts. There is the requisite barb wire band around both biceps, the flaming, screaming skull and crossbones across his back. The psychotic clown face on one of his calves. Yep, he must be tough. Tough enough to endure the needles required to produce all those tattoos. Tough enough to knock down anyone who dares to comment on how ridiculous he looks.

There’s the guy I call Philly Cat. A Southeast Asian guy, young and wiry. I don’t know him but he always wears the same shirt, a black t-shirt that says Philly Cats on the front. I think it’s a minor league baseball team. He not big, but he’s tough and cut. He is so focused, so intense, and he always takes every set to failure. He’s a tough dude.

A guy I call The Aussie might be the one. He’s a big, friendly guy. Barrel-chested, but not loaded with huge, rippling muscles. Still, he lifts more weight than almost anyone in there. I don’t know how he does it, but he puts up huge lifts, rep after rep, sets it down and walks of with a smile on his face. You can almost hear him say, "Hey, no big deal, mate!”

There are others. The guy with a single-digit body fat percentage, on whom I swear you can see capillaries. Jersey Guy, who looks like he was a roadie for Bruce Springsteen, can do 22 pull-ups. I watched him and counted. The Football Guy, who looks like he is one year removed from a college football team, 6’ 6” and about 280. He’s huge, scowls well and lifts a ton of weight.

Depending upon your definition of tough, I would have thought any one of these guys might have the right to claim the title of Toughest Guy in The Gym.

Until tonight.

Tonight I saw the person who owns that title outright, at least in my book.

The Toughest Guy in The Gym is…a woman.

You hardly notice her among the crowd I’ve just described. Like me, she sort of blends into the background, goes about her business. No posing, no posturing, just in there to work out, get the job done, go home. In fact, tonight is the first night I noticed her. But from what I saw of her, she must be a regular. She knows what she’s doing.

What makes her so tough, you ask?

She only has one leg.

It’s summer here, and quite hot. Most people in the gym are wearing shorts, or long, tight spandex pants. She’s wearing full length track suit pants, loose and baggy. But one leg hangs very loose, and there’s no shoe at the bottom.

Other than that, and the crutch at her feet, you’d never know what her deal is.

But she’s there and she’s doing the full routine. Free weights, sit ups, lat pulldowns. She even does pull-ups, dropping down hard off the bar at the end of her set, landing on one leg, getting her balance, bending down to pick up her crutch before moving on to the next station.

She’s focused, moving with purpose, knowing exactly what she wants to accomplish while she’s here. Unlike so many of the others, she’s not sneaking a glance in the mirror to see how she looks. She just wants to be strong.

I’d be willing to bet hardly any of the ‘tough’ guys I described above would be in here working out like this on one leg. Their vanity would prevent it. Oh, one or two might come in, do some token sets, then shrug, as if to say, “Hey, what can I do? See this? It’s not my fault.”

But I don’t’ see that from this woman. It is what it is. She’s asking no quarter, making no excuses. One leg, two legs, doesn’t matter. Bring it. I’m here, she says. Let’s get to work.

Toughness is made up of many things. Among them I would count courage, resiliency, and fortitude. If that is part of your measure of toughness, this woman has more than her share.

I’ll say it right now. She’s tougher than me. I don’t know if I’d have what it takes to do what she’s doing. I’d like to think so. But in all honesty, I’m not sure I do.

This is the first time I’ve seen her. Maybe she normally comes at a different time, and for some reason had to come at this time tonight. I’ll probably never know.

But I’m glad I saw her tonight. For two reasons.

One, the next time I’m feeling like I want to cut my workout short, or skip it all together, I’m going to remember her. If she can come in here and do what she does, as well as she does, then, dammit, so can I.

And two, now the question has been answered.

Who’s the Toughest Guy in The Gym?

She is.

It’s great to be The Family Man.

8 comments:

I'm not even supposed to be here today said...

i don't think I'd mess with any of them!

Avery's mom said...

proves to you that us women are tough......lol

Shiny Blue Black said...

Ugh. Comment spammers suck.

I met a woman recently who was twice my age and had lost the use of her legs. She is still stronger and fitter than I am. Puts me to shame.

Human strength is a wonderful thing isn't it? And it doesn't take muscles to have it.

Fnatastic post.

Hawaiianmark said...

latest profile =

Tough ladies in the gym.

Breaking news=

Ladies can do.

Get on it now=

Cause that is an excellent post /observation.

Recognizing this undiscovered gem=

priceless.

This message brought to you by the fine writings of THE family guy.

Killler post.

Spam be damned.

Cant beat 'em - make 'A' outta 'em.

Aloha.

momma of 2 said...

Excellent post - puts things in perspective doesn't it.

Anonymous said...

Your entries are surely food for the soul. Thanks for taking the time to offer your private reflections and assessments for public viewing. I appreciate your understanding of your blessings.

JUST A MOM said...

It takes a real tough guy to notice a real tough guy. This says alot about you family guy. Nice again.

Peanutt said...

Sure doesn't take a bunch of bulging muscles in my book to be the "toughest person". I think your post makes you "next" to the toughest person you spoke about, solely for being able to admit it!
Have a great day!