Gym Rat

Gym Rat

By

Leo de Natale

Since March, we’ve been experiencing a nationwide funk. It’s the damned Covid-19 pandemic, a disease that has disrupted every aspect of human life here and around the world. For months, Americans have been in solitary confinement. Men, women, children and their pets were living circumscribed lives. The pandemic has affected us physically, financially and psychologically. Many lost jobs that haven’t been recovered. Others fortunate to retain employment have been working from home. Zoom has become a familiar term. Masks are ubiquitous.

Manufacturers, biomedical companies and especially the healthcare industry were communicating through cyberspace. Now, for example, even physicians are “meeting” their patients from a remote location – usually their homes. Depending in which state you live, many restaurants have closed or survived by offering curbside meals. Although some eateries will never recover, summer weather fortunately provided a temporary fix and outdoor dining resuscitated portions of the restaurant industry.

Numerous news stories have reported another pandemic: depression and irritability none of us has ever experienced. Before this crisis there was an outlet: physical exercise and specifically routine trips to the local gyms, health care centers, Yoga studios and pilates classes.

I have been a gym rat for more than 20 years and have followed a specific regimen. My workout lasted 60 to 90 minutes. This part of my life has been taken away, perhaps forever. My primary care physician made it abundantly clear that, because of my age, exposure to any athletic facility is verboten. I’m in the “high risk” category. I miss the weight machines that stretch my upper body muscles. I miss the free weights that maintained muscle tone and pliability. And I miss the stationary bicycles that provided me with aerobic exercise. Also, I miss the characters I’d routinely see.

There was Clarence O’Brien who huffed and puffed his way through a usual routine.  Of average height, Clarence resembled an aging priest.  His complexion was pallid white.  Bald, he had the typical comb-over with wisps of hair making their feeble attempt at self-delusion.  You’re bald, Clarence.  Get used to it.

Bespectacled, his face was highlighted with a protruding lip. He resembled a pasty-skinned simian.  At least his knuckles weren’t scraping the rubber tread mill.  I regarded him as a beast of burden, padding along, his dirty white tee shirt soaked with perspiration.  He always wore the same faded outfit.

We are creatures of habit.  I would see the same faces during my workouts, a stream of fellow gym rats.  Didn’t know their names but we were in the same time groove.  The gym was crowded but the facility usually reached capacity after 5 pm. The irony was many club members, including Clarence, never changed their physical appearances.  Pot bellies and thunder thighs never disappeared but there was a certain silent camaraderie amongst us.

My activity level has been reduced to one-hour power walking with my wife, calisthenics, sit-ups, and various weight curls with measly eight-pound barbells.  Giant athletic megastores, if they were still opened, sold most of their free weight inventory.  The end result?  Most of us have gained weight that won’t go away — a new definition of sticking to your ribs.  I am now six pounds overweight.  Normally I’d quickly shed those calories.  Not anymore.  That’s one of the most frustrating aspects of the pandemic.  For me, the gym was the perfect solution to weight control and physical and mental health. Many Americans have succumbed to the Land of The Couch Potato.  Many have been reduced to reading books- a good thing-,  becoming more addicted  to the devil box, television, and watching streaming movies on various cable channels.

What to do with ourselves, especially when young children are home?  Television once again becomes the electronic pacifier but this time it for kids and adults. Social media has also been an escape.  More people spend too many hours on Facebook, Twitter, Tik Tok, etc. as an escape.  Much time can be wasted on social media. 

Between checking posts and spending hours deleting individuals  wanting  to be “friends”, Facebook devours days and nights.  I quickly learned the direct correlation with the total number of friends one has and the ongoing flow of new friends requests.  It is social media metastasis.

Some people become Facebook junkies.  They’ll send daily posts or text copies from their cell phones.   Social media make the days tolerable for those of us riding out the quarantine.  It especially benefits those who are restricted to life indoors.

There is hope, however. I have noticed a relaxation of mandatory mask wearing. People are now walking in neighborhoods sans mask. Of course all stores – grocery, pharmacies and restaurants require masking although many restaurants have alfresco seating where patrons can go mask-free. Waiters and waitresses are still required to wear the masks.

I must confess I’m continually tempted to sneak into the gym but the risk outweighs the reward.  Until my physician says yes, I am gym-less.  My workout shirts and shorts lay in a dresser drawer.  My business shoes have been collecting dust since March.  I was semi-retired.  The pandemic forced  permanent retirement.  I miss working and pray a vaccine will be rapidly developed.  And I miss seeing  families, friends, indoor restaurants and shopping without masks and returning to the life transformed in a mere six months. Until then, from under the mask, au revoir.