Richard Simmons?

My wife Linda has me on this ridiculous schedule of waking up between 5:00 am and 5:30 am to go to the gym. Should there be a class she plans on attending then the alarm chimes closer to 5:00 am, and it it’s simple a regular morning we’re blessed with an extra 30 minutes. She kicked this new lifestyle plan to better health well over a year ago and, to be fair, I should mention my attendance is spotty at best - maybe 50%. OK, 25% if I’m being completely honest.

This morning marked an early departure schedule and while these are generally extra miserable, today was different. After spending 30 minutes on a new elliptical - stair machine combination contraption I walked to the far water fountain. It’s down the only hallway in the gym across from the racquetball courts and situated in close proximity to the gyms 3 classrooms. It’s a bit further from the main water fountain but worth the walk because there’s never a line-up and the water is always colder. And it was here, near the water fountain, that I noticed a new instructor. He was like a train wreck and I couldn’t help but stare.

Best described as the Asian equivalent of Richard Simmons, his body was tubby complete with man boobs and thick trunky legs. He was wearing a long oversized t-shirt that hung down to mid-thigh revealing just a sliver view of bright pink shorts. At first I mistook the new instructor for a woman and who wouldn’t? Solid white Reebok aerobic shoes and tall bulky socks pushed down revealing the smoothest calves I’ve ever seen on a man. He was working the class into a frenzy, up and down the step platform in a grace generally reserved for ballet. “Arms out people, arms out and make it look beautiful. And one, and two, and three,” he called in a lilting voice. I just couldn’t look away as his upper body swung back and forth on what could only be described as hips. The guy had hips.

As he turned to face the class I noticed a small black microphone protruding from the big loopy curls that framed his round face and still, I couldn’t look away and his perm took on a life of it’s own. Bouncing with the beat of the music it was mesmerizing. Our eyes met and piped out without missing a beat, “C’mon come join us.”

The spell was broken and I ran, smiling with the thought I was pretty sure I’d just met Mr. Simmons doppelganger.