I remember the first time I met your muscles. I mean, that is what you wanted me to meet right? Draped underneath your stringer tank and your unlaced basketball shoes that you’ve never played basketball in. I heard you first, with your forceful grunting in front of the mirror at my local gym. As you stood there curling the equivalent of two small children in each hand, you smirked at me and my 30lb dumbbells. You waited impatiently as I used the squat rack to bang out some quick bench sets. The huge gallon of pink pre-workout you sat down beside me said, “dude, hurry up.” As I started to re-rack my weights, you were the guy who said “no, it’s cool, leave them.” Then you added two more plates to each side. I watch you as you study your muscles in the mirror between sets. You make sure that no angle is forgotten. I tried to tell you that you missed checking out a backwards biceps pose during your last exercise. You must not have heard me over your Beats headphones. It’s ok, I understand. I’ve always meant to ask you why you never work your legs. It must be some advanced weightlifting technique I don’t know about. About an hour after I left the other day, I realized I forgot my wallet. When I came back to grab it, you were still there. Yet you didn’t notice me or say hi.
The funny thing is, I’m there for the same reason as you. I want to be fit. I want to be a better me than I was yesterday. I’m not annoyed by you. I actually envy your work ethic. I envy your resolve. You have a ton of knowledge about so many things having to do with fitness that I could only dream of knowing about. It’s because of what you have achieved with your own body that I work so hard to build mine. It is through your inspiration that I seek to inspire others. I wouldn’t be where I am today if it wasn’t for you. It is because of the motivation you’ve given me that I push my body to its limit to see just what I’m capable of. I have become a better human. And for that, I thank you.