Over the next couple of months Juice and I trained several times a week and became workout buddies. She still critiqued my form and pushed me past boundaries that I never thought possible. As a consequence of my massage sessions, Juice's stiff back began to loosen up and she was seriously training for first time in several months. As we moved from set to set, we had to juggle the weight since she was now lifting heavier than me. It can be humbling to be outdone by a woman, but Juice was no ordinary woman.
One Thursday evening when I arrived at the gym, passing through the reception area I saw Juice finishing a training session with one of her clients.
"So, Juice, what are we working on today? Shoulders, back, arms, legs?"
"I have a different plan for today. Do you have your car with you?"
"Yes, why do you ask?"
"I want to visit my old gym. I think it's time that you learned what a real body building gym looks like, feels like, and smells like. It has been months since I've been there, but now it's time. After my injury I just couldn't go back there, but now that I'm feeling better, it is time to reacquaint with some old friends. Is that OK with you?"
"Sure thing, I'll meet you downstairs."
As Juice approached, I realized this was the first time I had seen her outside of the gym. She seemed uncharacteristically nervous and she began to ramble off the names of people we would likely to meet this evening.
"Harriet is the owner and has been running the place by herself since her husband died a couple of years ago. She is skinny like a twig but can do more chin ups than both of us combined. She's like a mother hen taking care of all the cocks and chicks running around the place."
Juice smiled and stopped talking for a minute, I assume drawing out older memories of interactions with Harriet.
"Little John is my best buddy. He is neither little nor named John - the pet name is based on the Robin Hood story about the two meeting at the bridge."
"If I remember the story, after a jousting match on a bridge, Robin Hood ended up in the water and they became good friends after that," I recounted.
"That's right, Jay," Juice continued. "I would tell you about Bear, but I think you will know him when you see him. In his case the name suits him to a 'T'. There are also several ladies. I would be careful about meeting Cougar. She was a multi-win champion for many years, but the years have not been graceful to her. With the amount of plastic surgery she has done she could buy a small condo, and she has an eye for younger men. Consider yourself warned."
Juice was about to continue when she said, "Pull over here."
We were in an older part of town with rows of brownstone industrial buildings. It was an area where I might have been concerned about walking around after dark. I followed Juice into a building and down a flight of stairs into the basement. I didn't notice much signage as Juice entered a reception area. An older woman came out from behind the desk and gave Juice an angry look.
"You can turn around now missy, we don't let quitters and street whores into this gym."
"Who's going to stop me, you over the hill, shriveled up prune of a woman? Go back to watching your porn and move aside."
I had never seen this side of Juice before. Her nostrils flared and fists clinched up as if preparing for a fight. I was ready to step in between them when they both simultaneously broke into laughter and approached each other with a warm hug.
"How are you sweetie?" Harriet asked. "We missed you. Stretch missed you."
"I missed you all but needed some time away. After my injury, I couldn't train; I was depressed, and didn't want to depress everyone around me. This is Jay, my friend, my massage therapist and my training buddy. But please don't judge me, he is still a work in progress," she laughed at my expense.
"Welcome, Jay," Harriet said as she reached out her hand to shake mine. He arms seemed frail but her grip was surprisingly firm. "I hope Juice isn't passing on any of her bad training habits to you," Harriet laughed jokingly.
"You're the only bad habit around here," Juice retorted playfully.
"Go into the back already, I am sure the gang wants to see you."
As we entered the main gym it looked weather-beaten, but all the equipment looked first rate. Unlike my usual gym, there were few aerobic machines, just a couple of treadmills to warm up on. But what it was missing in ellipticals, stair masters and bicycles was more than made up by barbells, dumbbells, various racks and body building equipment.
My quick scan of the premises showed a rather even balance of male to female, but also indicated that these were serious members; and their bulging muscles attested to it. On a bench about ten feet away there was a large fellow pressing two plates on each side with relatively ease, as if he was warming up for some heavy lifting. As he finished his reps and sat up he looked in our direction, smiled and walked toward us.
"Well look what the wind blew in. And since when did you get so skinny?" he laughed in a rather boisterous voice.
Now most girls would take being called skinny as a compliment, however I knew in this world being skinny meant you weren't training hard enough and losing muscle mass. But his voice was warm and friendly.
"Well, at least I don't have a muffin top," she laughed as Juice attempted to squeeze imaginary excess fat around his waist.
"And who's your boy toy?"
Before I could react, Juice jumped in. "Little John, he doesn't get your humor so be gentle to the newbie. This is Jay, my friend and massotherapist. He has been helping me with my back problem and I have been teaching him how to train. I am actually training for the first time in several months, so I won't be skinny for much longer."
"Nice to meet you Jay." Little John held out his hand to shake.
Little John must have been a good 6'3", 260 pounds with broad muscular shoulders and a very tapered waist. His biceps looked the size of my thighs. His Under Armour shirt highlighted large pecs and bulging abs.
As I held out my hand in response, I was expecting a firm handshake but what I experienced went way beyond what I could have imagined. To say his grip was like a vice would be an understatement as I felt my knuckles being fused together, all the while Little John looking into my eyes and measuring my reaction. I suspect this may have been a test and I knew I couldn't show weakness.
"Nice, firm grip Little John, but is that all you got?" I smiled back at him, resisting the need to rub my throbbing hand.
Little John looked down at me and smiled and gave me a wink of approval. "Any friend of Juice is a friend of mine."
In the distance I saw this mountain of a man approaching. He had to be Bear. He was the same height as Little John but a good 20 pounds heavier. Sporting a lumberjack beard, his disheveled hair hung down to his shoulders and masses of dark curly hair popped out from his tank top. Unlike Little John who was well defined, Bear looked like a cylinder, having a similar size from his chest to his waist to his butt.
