The day I met Jen, who would later become my personal trainer and lover, was when I did something I both hated and needed to do. I joined a gym. At 48, I wasn't in the worst shape of my life but certainly not the best. My job kept my busy and on my feet a lot, but my growing midsection and love handles made me mildly disgusted whenever I glanced at my body in the long bathroom mirror.
So, I bought one of those free trial memberships at my local gym. Bought a new pair of lightweight gray workout shorts and a loose tanktop. Wore my worn but comfortable trainers on my feet. But soon after I entered the main area of the place, taking in all those weight machines along with many musclebound, in-shape men (and quite a few attractive women in tight outfits), I felt way out of my league.
As I ambled around trying to decide where to start first, a voice broke me out of my mind numbing daze.
"Hey there. Trying to figure out where to start, huh?"
I turned my head and saw the smiling, friendly face of a young woman sitting on the bench of a machine mainly used for upper body exercises. Hair dark brown or auburn hair was pulled back into a cute ponytail. Her eyes sparkled brilliant blue, as did the light sheen of sweat along her cheeks and forehead, and exposed area of her chest visible above her tight gray workout bra. I also noticed she wore equally tight workout shorts. It didn't take me long to realize she was in very good shape, toned and muscular without being unfeminine.
I tried not to stare...too long. Cleared my throat.
"That obvious, huh?"
She nodded but was still grinning. "We all gotta start somewhere. I'm Jen."
I shook the proffered hand, her grip strong and not too greasy with sweat.
"Nice to meet you, Jen." And I gave her my name.
"If you need help getting started or need someone to show you around, I'm happy to help."
And that was how it began.
But that day and for the next two weeks, I showed up 3 days a week-Monday, Wednesday, and Friday-and she was there to guide me. My nervousness evaporated, and while I'd been sore for days, I'll be honest. I was mostly showing up to see her. And it appeared to me that she had interest as well. It wasn't overt but whenever we made eye contact I could feel that invisible crackle of sexual tension between us. Numerous times I'd witnessed one of the meat heads (as I'd come to call them) saunter up to Jen, making small talk, to which she'd politely retort, but it was obvious she wasn't there to hook up with them.
On Friday, halfway through my workout, and before we enjoyed an after workout smoothie at a nearby cafe/bookstore, I jokingly said, "You're pretty good at this, Jen. You should do this for a living."
"Already do," she replied. "I teach PE in elementary school."
Later, we'd sipped banana strawberry smoothies and discovered a mutual love of reading, especially horror, and she'd been equally impressed, or more so, that I'd written and published some of my own. Being with her felt easy and natural. And the sexual attraction continued to smolder.