Working out at a fitness facility is an interesting enterprise. You make friends. You see people change from overweight waddling weightlifters to guys who are more svelte and limber. You notice when regulars stop coming. And you pay attention to the newcomers.
Most fitness centers get a mix of people in terms of sizes, ethnicities and hometown. This keeps you occupied, sometimes conversationally, sometimes just eyeballing the circus.
You develop friendships at your workout center. Or at least you have a passing relationship with people who show up the same time you do – a head-nod, a small wave, a smile, “good morning” or “how’s it going.” Then you go on your way and focus on your regime.
When you see someone regularly, their non-attendance stands out. When you see a guy twice a week for two-and-a-half years consistently, when he disappears, you wonder what the heck happened. Missing a week or even three is not necessarily a big deal. Everyone has an injury now and then or their job takes them out-of-state or out of the country, or there is a family illness they must attend to.
It becomes more puzzling when a regular at the fitness center exits and you have no notice beforehand and no one who can explain where that person went. It makes me think, “Where’d that guy (or woman) go?”
There was a father-son team who came in about the same time I did, and we had some common things to chat about – living in Nebraska, music from the 1970s, and a similar taste in humor. The father was probably in his 50s, the son in his early 20s.
After 2-3 years of regular attendance, they disappeared. It didn’t make sense because if one of them got transferred in a job, there was no reason both would relocate. I doubt they died simultaneously. I can’t imagine they both suddenly lost interest in working out at the exact same time. So what the heck happened?
There is no way to find out. I didn’t know either of their names. It’s not like you can go to the front desk and play detective, “Hey, there were these two guys here – a father and son – who looked alike but one had brown hair and one was blonde. Do you know where they went?” You’d get a return look like you were batty.
You could try and find other people who worked out in the same area at the same time and ask them if they know their whereabouts. But, really, these are situations where people just disappear from your daily routine and you will never see them again and you will have no idea where they went or why.
I don’t know why this bothers me, but it does. It has something to do with the transitory nature of life, and people moving in and out of our spheres for different reasons on a regular basis.
As our kids high school careers wind down, we see parents who had kids in the same activities way less than we did four years ago. You have to make an effort to keep that connection. Our work and family lives get in the way.
I bumped into a huge guy at the airport who wore a Minnesota Football jersey last year, and I knew his dad from the fitness center and I knew his son had gone to the University of Minnesota. The father had disappeared from his fitness routine, so I thought, “what have I got to lose” and asked the young man if he happened to be the son of the guy I knew.
“I can’t believe how many people come up and ask that,” he replied, smiling and letting me know where his father and mother had recently moved to. It was good to hear. We both made a connection, and I think that’s what it’s all about.
Most fitness centers get a mix of people in terms of sizes, ethnicities and hometown. This keeps you occupied, sometimes conversationally, sometimes just eyeballing the circus.
You develop friendships at your workout center. Or at least you have a passing relationship with people who show up the same time you do – a head-nod, a small wave, a smile, “good morning” or “how’s it going.” Then you go on your way and focus on your regime.
When you see someone regularly, their non-attendance stands out. When you see a guy twice a week for two-and-a-half years consistently, when he disappears, you wonder what the heck happened. Missing a week or even three is not necessarily a big deal. Everyone has an injury now and then or their job takes them out-of-state or out of the country, or there is a family illness they must attend to.
It becomes more puzzling when a regular at the fitness center exits and you have no notice beforehand and no one who can explain where that person went. It makes me think, “Where’d that guy (or woman) go?”
There was a father-son team who came in about the same time I did, and we had some common things to chat about – living in Nebraska, music from the 1970s, and a similar taste in humor. The father was probably in his 50s, the son in his early 20s.
After 2-3 years of regular attendance, they disappeared. It didn’t make sense because if one of them got transferred in a job, there was no reason both would relocate. I doubt they died simultaneously. I can’t imagine they both suddenly lost interest in working out at the exact same time. So what the heck happened?
There is no way to find out. I didn’t know either of their names. It’s not like you can go to the front desk and play detective, “Hey, there were these two guys here – a father and son – who looked alike but one had brown hair and one was blonde. Do you know where they went?” You’d get a return look like you were batty.
You could try and find other people who worked out in the same area at the same time and ask them if they know their whereabouts. But, really, these are situations where people just disappear from your daily routine and you will never see them again and you will have no idea where they went or why.
I don’t know why this bothers me, but it does. It has something to do with the transitory nature of life, and people moving in and out of our spheres for different reasons on a regular basis.
As our kids high school careers wind down, we see parents who had kids in the same activities way less than we did four years ago. You have to make an effort to keep that connection. Our work and family lives get in the way.
I bumped into a huge guy at the airport who wore a Minnesota Football jersey last year, and I knew his dad from the fitness center and I knew his son had gone to the University of Minnesota. The father had disappeared from his fitness routine, so I thought, “what have I got to lose” and asked the young man if he happened to be the son of the guy I knew.
“I can’t believe how many people come up and ask that,” he replied, smiling and letting me know where his father and mother had recently moved to. It was good to hear. We both made a connection, and I think that’s what it’s all about.
