I got into the habit of going to a gym three times a week a few years back, and after a while it became as regular a part of my life as brushing my teeth. This is unusual for me as I don't have a terribly disciplined life otherwise. So, as much as gym work can be tedious at times, I feel a certain sense of accomplishment at having stuck to it over a span of time. I'm, otherwise, a man of few real accomplishments.
Naturally, I fell into a routine. Cardio first, for forty minutes, relying on the battery of TV screens to pull me through the boredom. I look around, too. I'm curious about people. I'm someone who, if their flight is late, has no problem sitting there and watching the traveling masses walk past.
I began to notice a woman at the gym who uses an elliptical machine. Since I sometimes ran/walked on one of the treadmills - which were in the back row of the aerobic section - I found I enjoyed watching her.
She is of slender build and average height, and her ash-blonde hair is pulled back into a pony tail. She normally whiles the time away doing things with her phone which she holds in one hand, working the arm piece with the other. She carries her head ever so slightly off-center, tilted to the left, and has a serious demeanor, almost severe. I get the sense from watching her, that she is at ease in her self, in her body, and cares nothing for what anyone might think of her. She exuded self-sufficiency and independence. To me, she was attractively aloof, and it was this that began to intrigue me, and to make me want to know more about her.
Sometimes, when not at the gym, perhaps sipping coffee at home, I would think of her, and wonder what the basis of the attraction was.
Years back, I was in therapy. I'm naturally reclusive and a bit insecure. I feel most comfortable when I'm alone. I suppose it's because there's no threat of judgement or rejection that way. Alone time wasn't always the best thing for me, however, and I fell into a depression. I felt that if I didn't talk to someone, someone who could help me find and be at peace with the root causes of my habits and my longings, I would just spiral down to who knows where. Essentially, I was frightened by the prospects.
What did I learn? Well, my therapist led me to the nature of my relationship with... my mother! What a surprise. I suppose it's something of a cliche to investigate this singular relationship, but there are reasons for it. Here is a bit of my history.
In a nutshell, my mother was emotionally unavailable and fragile. She simply wasn't psychically equipped to deal with three children.
I was the youngest. There were times, as with every child, when I simply wanted to be held and soothed by her, but the invitation wasn't there, and I feared that if I persisted I would upset and destabilize her. When, feeling especially bereft, I cried for her attention, I was made to feel I was selfish, then guilty, and, by some perverse rationale, in need of punishment.
Once it became clear that I must tread cautiously around my mom, I did so. For her part, she presented to me an inviolable countenance; averting her eyes, giving terse responses to questions, and retiring to her room when there was free time she might spend with me. I kept my need hidden, but it has never left me. This complex dynamic became internalized and it carried over into adulthood.
Now, the woman at the gym: where does that puzzle piece fall into place? Well, when I looked at her, absorbed as she was ( in something other than me! ), and looking severe and detached, it struck a deep chord. Through the mysterious workings of my emotional past, I found myself wanting to make amends, to please, to apologize, and to be punished for the pain I'd caused. These were the emotions that she elicited. Of course, never having exchanged two words with this person, none of it made sense. Still, I felt drawn, then driven, to discover what was pulling me towards her. But how?
One day, I decided that I would be bold. I'd noticed some folks at the gym would sometimes carry weights, dumbbells for instance, and walk with them. While Lesley (this is the woman's name) was on the elliptical, I picked up some weights and began walking with them. Whenever I passed in front of her, I would slow a bit and bow my head. I did several circuits around the gym in this way. I did not look at her.
A few days later, I was doing my treadmill routine when Lesley entered the gym. The path to the women's locker room crossed in front of the various cardio machines and, when she walked past, she turned and looked at me. There was no mistaking it. For a second there was eye contact. Something akin to an electric shock ran through my entire body. I looked away at once, and noticed my heart beating quickly.
I stayed away from the gym for nearly a week, feeling completely unsure of how to make any kind of overture with her. She was on my mind almost constantly. The image of her face turned toward me, and of her piercing blue eyes calmly searching mine, confronted me at every turn.
I finally did return, and, that first day, I did not see her. Two days after that, I came to the gym and she was on a different elliptical, one that also moved laterally. These were situated by the entrance to the men's locker room. As I walked past, and with great effort, I looked her way. I ventured a small smile.
She returned my gaze, but she did not smile. During my workout that day, I avoided being near her. Still, something had begun. I wondered to myself if I had the courage and the wherewithal to see it through.
It was not until the next week that I saw her again. Perhaps she had been out of town. By happenstance, we both finished doing cardio work at the same time, and met at the area where paper towels and disinfectant spray are kept. I waited while she spritzed a section of toweling with the liquid. My heart raced, as did my mind, wondering what I could possibly say. I told myself: 'Say anything!'
"Ellipticals are great, aren't they." I blurted out.
