cut to the bay area, circa 1995. Our heroine, in grey sweat pants and white T-shirt, loses a girlfriend but finds something more

I'm not big on gyms. Maybe it's that smell. Ooh, ooh, that smell. Maybe it comes from years of being overweight and so self conscious about my body that i couldn't even be seen in the place where I was supposed to be getting healthier. Doesn't make sense? Well, once upon a time they called them "Health Clubs" -- how alientating was that? The way I made it back into the gym was by joining a gym that had ALL kinds of people going to it. It was back in Richmond, CA-- the YMCA-- and I'd be on the treadmill next to big ol' black ladies and hunched over Chinese guys and all kinds of uber-fit teenagers, acne and all. We were beautiful in our imperfection, in our not fitting the media norm of what "healthy" looked like. So that's where it started (and back then I was in one of my more pronounced FOOD=LOVE/SEX relationships-- but that's another story), and soon came the end of a relationship, and I got more into working out, and I started in at World Gym in San Francisco, because I got a discount through the produce warehouse where I worked. And that gym was more like the gyms I'd imagined and feared-- a lot of really fit people (many of whom just happened to be gay guys) in workout wear that would have broken my bank, and personal trainers with a whole lotta attitude (and combat boots-- did I mention the combat boots?), and lots of TVs going, and mucho man-sweat en la silla, and maybe some exotic dancers doing a whole lotta toning, and a little snack bar chock full o' supplements and just when I couldn't stand it anymore, in walked this personal trainer who did not look like all the other personal trainers, and her clients, who didn't look like anyone else at the gym, and all of a sudden, I was empowered again.
It made me realize how much courage it takes for those of us who don't fit the "fit" mold to make that kind of change-- to step into a gym, or out onto the street/sidewalk/multi-use-path and build that relationship with our bodies. I never had a session with her (dear reader, I must admit that I had a wicked as in whincy, whincy, squeezing my own thighs tight crush on her), but I took such encouragement, and that sense of capability, though it may have waned at times,has never left me.

I've been considering putting in some time at the school gym. Mainly weights, maybe some rowing. I take pride in the fact that I've found a lifestyle with a certain amount of activity (cycling, walking) built in. I enjoy working exercise into my everyday routine, and I like that when I walk up Denny Way in the morning I'm getting to school AND clearing my mind AND getting my exercise AND doing my bit to clean the air. I'm also taking in all those sounds, sights, and smells that tell me how the seasons are changing. So it's a gift.

But that gym smell, it's another kind of gift. And it sure can bring back fond memories...