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Checking in with Jeremy: Final week

Body break

Jeremy used to spend a lot of time holding his ass in, but the gym taught him to spread his legs, stick his butt out and just do it. Credit: Evolution Fitness

Dearest Gym,

Now that our time is done, I find myself reflecting on our affair. When we first met, 16 weeks ago, I marvelled at the smallness of you. You were youthful and clean, which is always a plus, but when I poked my head in for the first time, I doubted I’d ever be able to fit my considerable girth inside you. But I gathered myself up and eased into you using only an adventurous attitude as lubricant.

During the months we spent together, you taught me much. First, the key to just about any activity is to stick out my ass. It’s something to do with preventing injury to my lower back, I think. As hard as it may be to believe, I used to spend a lot of time holding my ass in, but you told me to spread my legs, stick my butt out and just do it. And I did it. And it hurt, but only at first. From top to bottom, you started to change me.

You taught me that if we were going to get sweaty together, I would need a lot more energy, and that meant eating better. I started spending nearly twice as much on groceries, stocking up on vegetables, fruit, Greek yogurt and meat, and preparing food in advance, filling containers with rice dishes, chopped vegetables and boiled eggs. I gorged myself to please you. My mouth was stuffed with meat from morning to night.

As the weeks passed, our relationship became one of give and take; I gave my time and energy, and you replaced my fat (20 pounds of it) with muscle. People saw us together, laughed, and commented on our progress. I couldn’t help bragging a little. There was a period where I resented what you demanded of me and didn’t want to leave the house to go see you, but we got through it. Now as we say our last farewells, as we knew we’d eventually have to, I know I’ll remember you fondly.

You used to call me your “pear.” It was your pet name for me, but going forward, I think I’d rather be known as celery, carrot or a more flattering type of squash. It’ll be easier that way. I doubt you’d mind, and while you won’t be around to see it, I know you wish me well and hope that I’ll continue to improve and be happy, even in your absence.

Yours always,
Jeremy