The Guy at the Gym

So I went to the gym with Rita last night. It was really crowded, and most of the free weights stations were being used, so I circled back to the cardio equipment and settled onto the Precor machine next to Rita for a quick warmup. After several minutes, I noticed that the free weight crowd was thinning out, so I hurried over and grabbed an open bench. I was in the mood for Chinese music, probably because we just caught up with our friend Ariel from our days teaching English in Taiwan, so I dialed in a peppy Kelly Chen song on my iPod and started on a set of bench presses.

When I finished, I noticed a guy gesturing like he wanted to work in with me. I took out my earbuds and said, "Sure." He asked if he could take forty pounds off of the bar, because he was just starting back up after a month off. I said that was fine and helped him adjust the weight. I then spotted him for his set.

We continued to chat. He apparently learned from another guy at the gym that pushing the weight up slowly will give you the best results. I commented that I also had heard that, and then strained to do my next set more slowly than the last one. At one point during our third set he asked what my name was. I learned his name -- we'll call him Robert. He was a real nice guy -- Latino, a bit shorter than me, and I guessed about the same age as me or maybe a little younger.

As we finished our last set, I started looking around to see what I wanted to do next. Usually, I do back and biceps on the same day as chest. (I have no idea why -- it goes way back to when my buddy Ray and I used to work out at Bally's in Buena Park during the summers when we were home from college. I'll have to ask him.) I was about to thank Robert for spotting me and head off to do some back exercises, when he piped up:

"So what else are you working on today?"

Meaning, of course, what other muscle groups. Which, to me, seemed to imply, "hey, let's do something else...TOGETHER." This took me by surprise and, for some reason, freaked me out. I had this weird fear of commitment thing right then. But I just met you! I thought this was just a one-exercise thing! My mind quickly went to work and cobbled together some semblance of an excuse:

"Uh, actually, I just have about, um, ten minutes left here. Yeah, I only had like thirty minutes to work out today...you know, got here late 'cause of work and...well, you know." (What the hell are you doing?!)

"Oh. What time did you get here?" Robert asked, innocently.

"Uh, about ten, fifteen minutes ago, you know, like around 10:15," the idiot stammered. "Yeah, um, I'm probably going to go finish up with like ten minutes of cardio, and then I...I gotta go. But hey, it was great meeting you, and maybe I'll see you around again, here, you know, and we can...work out again together, or something."

"Yeah, okay. See ya!" Robert replied and turned to start on another exercise.

As I walked back to the Precor machine next to Rita, where she was finishing up her cardio, all I could think was IDIOT! IDIOT! IDIOT! What the hell is wrong with me? Am I socially retarded or what? I totally could have used a workout partner. In my own experience and as I've heard countless times from others, it's ALWAYS better to work out with a partner. And here was a nice guy who also obviously needed a partner. And he knew how to strike up a conversation. Not like the IDIOT.

I stewed over my idiocy in the dry sauna. What happened out there? Why was I choosing isolation over interaction? I started thinking of all the potentially friendly conversations I've avoided lately. Chitchat with the checkout guy at Ralphs. A tasteful joke and a laugh with the two young female clerks at our local public library. Innocuous morning banter with the smiling parking attendant in our garage at work. Nope. I'd have none of it. It was a sad realization, and it made me mad.

I have completely forgotten how to interact with people.

That's an overstatement. What I mean is that I have forgotten how to interact normally with friendly strangers. I blame it on my iPod. I used to be able to strike up conversations with people I didn't know. Now, I seem to have lost that art. I'm out of practice. I've become the person that I used to look down upon with disdain -- the guy with his earbuds securely in place, immersed in his own selection of sounds and thoughts and ignoring the world around him. What a putz.

But wait! It can't be the iPod's fault! It just can't! I mean, that thing has absolutely revolutionized my workouts! Since I got it I've been lifting heavier weights and running harder, pushing my body to the next level. Trying to keep pace with Janet and BT and Erasure and the Chemical Brothers is tricking my body into shaping itself up.

But at what price?

I continued to stew. There was one other guy in the sauna, a bald-headed white guy in maybe his mid- to late-thirties whom I had seen around before. I suddenly hated the hot, stifling silence. I wanted to say something. Something genuine. You know, not just, "Wow, is it hot in here or what?" But I couldn't form any words. (I really wanted to ask him, "Hey, do people ever just start talking to you here, at the gym? What if you don't want to talk, I mean, what do you say to them?" Then it occurred to me, whatever he replied, I wouldn't know if that's what he would actually say, or if he was actually saying it to me because he didn't want to talk to me. That thought made me smile. I hope he didn't notice.)

The bald-headed guy left the sauna after a few minutes. Another chance at social interaction, lost. So I made up my mind. Usually, I push myself to stay in the sauna fifteen minutes for maximum detoxification, but this time I got out early. I showered quickly, got dressed, and hurried back out to the main gym area. I was going to find Robert and make up for my earlier stupidity. The place had cleared out considerably, as it was now well after 11. I didn't see him at first, so I discreetly ambled over to a drinking fountain nearer to the free weights area. Then I saw him. He was in the middle of a curl set when I approached him and called out his name.

"Hey, Robert. So, how often do you come here?"

He finished his set and mopped his brow. "Oh, you know, I try to come every day and just work out different body parts. You know, I did chest today, so tomorrow I'll probably work on legs or something. How about you?"

"Oh, I usually try to come like three times a week," I answered. "So," I asked, "do you usually come around this time?"

"Yeah, after I get off work, so like around 10 o'clock."

"Cool. Hey, so, you know, maybe I'll try to come find you when I come here, and we can work out together. 'Cause, you know, it's always better to work out with a partner," I offered.

"Yeah, sure!" Robert seemed excited. "I'm going to try to set up a routine where I hit all the different muscle groups, so like maybe do this on Monday" -- he pointed to his right bicep and traced a line up to his shoulder -- "and then this on Tuesday, and..." Robert continued like this all the way through the week. I was half listening, but mostly I was feeling better about myself. I am not a social retard. I still know how to make friends and talk to people. Yeah!

"Cool," I said, after Robert had gotten through Friday, which may have been wrists and calves. I'm only half joking. "Sounds like a plan. I guess I'll see you next time we're both here."

"Hey, why don't you give me your cell number?"

"Uh..."

I felt that same Fear of Commitment again.

The exact same thing. AGAIN!

Wait, what am I committing to here? Dude, I just met you! But this time, I caught myself. In a split second, I did the necessary mental gymnastics. Stalker? No, doesn't seem like one. Just a friendly guy at the gym. Latino. What's that mean? Nothing. I have Latino friends. Gangbanger? NO! There's absolutely NO evidence of that. I've obviously been watching too many bad movies. He's a nice guy! Give him a fake number? NO! Why would I do that? I'm not a hottie trying to blow off a guy at a club. What if this doesn't work out? Do we have to stop coming to this gym? Rita will be mad!

I ended up giving him my number.

Maybe I overcompensated. Was this TOO MUCH all at once? Well, whatever. I was glad to shake things up a bit. It's time to get back into society and start connecting with people again. I'll continue to use my iPod at the gym, but not all the time.

We'll see how this works out. I'll keep you posted.