by Maura Campbell

In an effort to shape up and deny nature's push to expand out, my husband and I have been working out - separately. For quite some time we did share the same fun, svelte, savvy, smart and female personal trainer. Then in an effort to turn his workouts up a notch, Duncan switched to a younger buff-bodied but somber-faced male trainer who takes his training sessions very seriously to the point that my husband brags "he beats the crap out of me." All would be fine except that the two now show up in my little corner of our gargantuan gym where week after week Tracy and I and, occasionally an intern, have laughed and sweated our way through my workout - they good-naturedly pushing me and me good-naturedly resisting their efforts to do so. We can sense Duncan and Justin as soon as they arrive - the oxygen is suddenly sucked out of the room and replaced by testosterone while the laughter in the room stills as the grunts, groans and glowers of these modern, macho and overly-serious males overshadows all. Now what fun is that - other than knowing that Duncan is suffering and missing the fun he had with his former trainer with the smiling face and blond tresses - not much.


Maura Campbell, author of My Catch-22, usually writes for other people - putting words in the mouths of (and on the page for) assorted public relations and marketing clients. This time of year in Michigan, she misses the sun and finds herself longing for her home state of Colorado.


Louise Yeiser said...

LOL, Maura! It seems like there's always a room, or a separate space set aside for these guys. I call it "the big boy room;" and, as you so aptly pointed out, it tends to lack air and banter.

writerwoman said...
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Ellen "EJ" Sackett, said...

Yeah, Maura --Sounds familiar. My husband did the exact same thing. His trainer beat the crap out of him. He took real pride in that. It's been over a year since we stopped lifting weights, but occasionally my husband will still lift a sleeve to his T-shirt and flex his bicep for me. LOL! ~ ej