Today I needed every ounce of guile left in me to make it to Tabata. I had put my creaking form through the wringer this week with 4 spin classes and 2 thirty minute segments of that Einstein program 30=MC2. Yeah I know I had a case of the poor me’s. This rigorous exercise schedule is a double-edged sword because as much as I find myself desperate to breathe during these physical forays I am starting to really enjoy the results in body and spirit. I am moving toward a fitness that I have not felt in 30 years. As I entered the 9 o’clock edition of Kristen I was witness to what looked like Pennsylvania Station at rush hour. Mostly female forms moving seemingly chaotically about grabbing equipment and floor space that was disappearing faster than ice on a summer day. I felt powerless to exercise my masculinity in trying to stake my claim to some hardwood space in this sea of femininity. In a sense I am an outsider to these distaff soldiers of fitness.
The young woman to the left of me kept creeping over to the right with determined fervor leaving me virtually no real estate as I found myself closer and closer up against immovable objects. Maybe this group exercise thing wasn’t for me I thought but no I had just as much right to be there as she did but somehow my own politeness had me acquiescing like an old chauvinist of the previous generation. It gave me an idea that I had to act as if there were no gender difference and behave just as she was. It was odd but I could be aggressive and it wouldn’t be misinterpreted after all we are in the 21st Century where the battle of the sexes is over. Or is it?
Navel intelligence everyone has one. It was time to cut the umbilical cord.
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