Life at the Gym and Helping Others

At the gym this morning, I was going through my usual routine, which includes walking the treadmill. The man on the treadmill on my right was gazing hopefully at the buttons; I could tell that he was probably a novice. So, I removed my headphones (listening to Three Whisky Happy Hour) and asked if I could help. Men in particular sometimes get flustered if they realize a woman has caught them in a confused moment. He didn’t answer, but I suspect at that point his brain was flooded with anxiety. Still, I explained how he could engage the TV and change the volume. I realized he hadn’t even found the “Start” button for the treadmill, so I directed him to the main screen, and he was able to begin the process again. Except, I thought he might want to go a little faster. So, I showed him the pluses and minuses for speed, and he was off and running. So, to speak. He didn’t thank me, but I think he was overwhelmed with relief, and walked the treadmill for several minutes

I love to help people on the machines, when they let me. I usually mind my own business unless they are completely stuck or are about to hurt themselves. We have trainers around, but they never seem to show up when you need them.

Near the end of my workouts, I use a machine where a person stretches the hamstrings, one leg at a time. There was an elderly man on it (yes, likely older than me), and he was taking a very long time. And he was bending his knees, trying to lift his leg higher. Of course, that did little for his hamstrings. When he finished, he very slowly vacated the machine, and I made the friendly suggestion that it helps to get the most from the machine when we straighten our legs on it. He smiled and said he couldn’t lift his leg higher, so I explained the idea was to stretch the back of his leg, and it didn’t matter how high he lifted his leg. He commented that he saw a fellow lift his leg very high, but I assured him that he didn’t have to do that himself. He thanked me and as he turned from the machine, he picked up a wipe and started to slowly wipe it down. I offered to do that for him, and he thanked me. Carefully he reached for his cane and we wished each other a good day.

* * * *

These encounters gave me much to reflect on. First, I have been working out, trying to maintain my health and flexibility, for a very long time. Apart from the occasional pulled muscle, I do pretty well. I like feeling part of a community of people who also care about taking care of themselves, although we are still experiencing more people coming in at this time, and we are at the tail-end of the newbies who are trying to fulfill their New Year’s resolution to get fit. I suspect the gym traffic will slow down in another week.

I also realize that my impatience to finish using the machines is helpful to no one. I’m not on the clock, but I have an expectation in my head that people should be courteous by not hogging the machines. Of course, my idea of hogging and theirs might be different. I will sometimes ask to “work in,” but I almost always get the answer, “I just have one more set,” which I don’t believe for a minute. But again, if they work longer on the machine, the world will not come to an end.

But mostly, I like to be helpful without intruding. Most of the time people are very grateful to get some guidance and I get to feel like a trainer again.

That’s always a rewarding feeling.