Gymmie
I am in Toronto and have been away from friends and family for quite long. It feels good - all this alone-ness and the anonymity. I now realize which people stick inside my brain and have a lasting value across distance. Apart from immediate family, of course, there is my x-boyfriend, my Gym instructor and a friend who makes me laugh all the time.
Anyway, the Gym instructor. Lets call him Gymmie, as I do. I am letting out secrets. Wow. There has been so much of sweating, lifting weights, holding ankles for crunches and counting exercise bicycle miles with him, how can I forget him?
He keeps boasting, without trying to sound like it, that he can bash up eight guys together if they mess with him. Or mess with his brother. Or his friend. Or his friend’s friend.
If you are feeling low, if someone in your family died, he will get you a puppy to distract you and cheer you up. He will get seriously offended if you criticize Salman Khan. And the funny part is, you start seeing his point and agreeing with him. I mean, how can you not respect a guy, who has put in the effort and achieved the body we are all sweating it out in the gym for. Not the body I want. I am not aiming at bulging muscles. But you get what I mean. A fab body is easier said than done, and you respect a person once he has it. My problem with Salman Khan is blackbuck related but lets leave that topic. Its another dept. altogether.
Ask Gymmie what are his plans for Friday night and he will tell you that he has to go to bed. He eats on time and sleeps on time so that he can work out the next day. Ad he binges on barfi if a box comes along. Lol. He is human unlike stereotypes that we have in mind regarding Gym instructors.
This is becoming sickeningly praisy sorts but what the hell, this is how it is. You put in effort and he monitors your workout in detail. He doesn’t have to. But if you are at it, he will show up early, stay back late until you have done enough crunches and squats. You could do it at home. It doesn’t need gym equipment but he’ll stay.
And he is not all that angelic. A nice badass attitude that cannot be justified if you start talking about it. But boy, does it feel good. It feels like its right in place. Our gym air conditioner wasn’t working and that was really tough as the gym is in the basement and you know how sweaty it gets in a gym. He requested college maintenance authorities politely. Requested again. The job got done but not until he had banged a chair across the fucking AC of the electricity technician who just sat and swiveled on his swivel chair.
And he tells the same stories about his college days and about playing football. When he starts the story, he is sitting on the workout bench. By the end of it he is excited and talking while demonstrating all the kicks and the coach’s reactions and the Dean who asked him to cut his hair, which he did not.
And he will tell you what his dog did, where he took his dog and what his dog thinks. And you will spend 10 minutes pushing the joystick on his mobile, looking at his dog in side profile, at 20 degrees angle, 30 degrees angle, 45 degrees angle, overhead shots. Shit I have forgotten the name of the dog!
And he pronounces Nike like Mike, but it just does not matter.
I remember the time Gymmie sent a backstage message to me before a fashion show started. He had been working out with me all the time for the show. It was his appearance on the ramp as much as it was mine. And he sent a message like a worried mother, through a person who managed to squeeze through to the green-room – “Drink water before you go on the ramp!”
Need I finish with, a gem of a person ! ?