Work [out]

I signed up for a mem­ber­ship at the gym two blocks from my work­place yes­ter­day and got up at 5:30am this morn­ing and rode the 23 in for my first work­out. I feel like I’m in the worst shape of my life, and I like­ly am, so I made sure to take it easy. There is a room where they have group ex­er­cise, but as none of the class­es are sched­uled un­til 8 or so, I have it all to my­self for some ba­sic cal­is­then­ics and hap­py-joy fenc­ing foot­work. I did that for about twen­ty min­utes, had a good long stretch and then ran for a half hour on the tread­mill and watched some dude stab an in­flat­able snow­man on tele­vi­sion. A set of crunch­es lat­er and I hit the show­ers: with­out a tow­el. [This over­sight will be reme­died to­mor­row.] There is al­so a room at Fitworks [warn­ing: noise] where they show movies, a sort of tread­mill cine­plex, where peo­ple can run in the dark and zone out. They were show­ing Christmas at the Kranks yes­ter­day. I won­der if I can con­vince them to play Criterion films… 

One block from work is a CVS, where I imag­ine I’ll be get­ting my post-work­out break­fasts. I bought some yo­gurt and gra­nola bars to­day. Riding the gym, in the dark, on the bus, lis­ten­ing to Orion by Metallica, I felt like I was hav­ing a re­al-life train­ing mon­tage.

The city steams on win­ter morn­ings
like a spent horse
bus­es squall
in the dark

lock­ers hold ties
and work boots

an­oth­er
heart pumps legs
pump heat hunts for
re­lease—

pow­er­ing this
restive beast called Cleveland.

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