SUPER TIMES!

Most of my enjoyment from going to classes at the gym stems from my need for constant recognition. I take a real pride at being the instructor's pet. There just aren't enough opportunities to prove your excellence in the real world. There's no equivalent of getting an A. If you do well at your job, it feels good for a while, and then usually that's followed by resentment because you feel like you've earned a promotion and a raise.

So the only way to prove my worth in the immediate term is to attend classes at 24 Hour Fitness and outperform everyone. I'm not particularly strong (I joined because I hit a wall--I couldn't open a jar), but I'm persistent. And when adults are told by an instructor that they can stop whenever they want, or reduce their weight, or do fewer reps, MOST OF THEM DO. (What are they paying for?) So I win the contest I'm holding in my own mind simply by good-naturedly finishing with good form. The bar is low.

I've been to only one class at this particular location so far. It's called 24 Lift, which is 24 Hour Fitness' branded way of saying it's a weightlifting class. The instructor's name is Richard, which I know because 24 Hour Fitness has a whiteboard at the front: the equivalent of a big "HI, MY NAME IS..." tag. All of the instructors use a green marker, and it looks like someone accidentally bought a wet-erase instead of a dry-erase board, and no one's done anything about it. It took me two class attendances to read Richard's name.

So, anyway, I know Richard's name, but he doesn't know mine. I know he appreciates my dedication to ensuring that all my squats are the FULL three seconds, because he catches my eye in the mirror and (I wholeheartedly believe) smiles approvingly. Most people in the class get verbal recognition, even though I'm fairly certain none of them are trying quite as hard to please as I am. Furthermore, it's my suspicion that Richard actually knows very few names--and who's to correct him? For all of class, he's calling out, "Great work, Erin!" "Good job, Helen!" But if no one in the class knows the name of anyone else in the class, and if no one ever reacts to their name being called out, who's to know? Richard comes off as personable and encouraging, and maybe everyone works a little bit harder. Imagine how well I'D perform if I had the chance of being verbally rewarded for sticking out the entire "Challenge" exercise!

Yeah, I'm onto him.

There are always a few things that are hard to figure out when you try out a new class. I've belonged to a gym and have been going to classes for most months of the last ten years, so the fact that it's hard to really understand the exact words of the instructor through his headset, layered with the dance mix of a Pink song (no one ever just pops in Jock Jams anymore) isn't usually an issue. It's kind of like watching What Not To Wear on mute. You think you might know how to read lips, but that's just because it's all a bunch of blather and you pick up the important stuff because it's the same every time.

But instructors, like news anchors, have to have a gimmick. Richard's, I thought for about an hour, was, "SUPER TIMES!" What he's really saying is, "Two more times!," which comes up a lot in a class that's basically about exerting yourself for eight counts at a time. This also means that while everyone's dropping off by the time we get to the last two reps, I do my snort laugh and the momentum of that practically lifts the bar for me.

Richard does have his downside. I think he cheats. He has real problems counting to eight. He often skips "one." And that means that I'm torn between completing the set (as I know he, and God, want me to do) and staying with the rhythm of the class. And he adds in all those little lost single seconds on occasions to hold a single (always uncomfortable) position for eight counts, because first he uses about two seconds to explain that we'll count to eight, and then (THEN! The most infuriating thing one could do to one who is straining under weight), at three, stops to interject, "Almost there!"

He's just being mean.

But, since he's the only one in the room with any right to judge me, and I so desperately want him to approve of my performance, I just smile knowingly. He can't crack this one.