I’m the skinny guy taking his first, clumsy steps into an elite gym. On my way to the lockers I see Cogito thrashing out the final rep of his 600kg bench press and I watch Arron89 complete a three-and-a-half minute mile. There’s NaCi striding around the free-weights section with two 80kg plates hanging from his arms. He walks past the squat rack where Pallas yells encouragement to Maestro, who’s busy grinding a ton to full extension. I like it here, but I’m very, very under qualified.
I get to the lockers and unpack my bag. It seems that I’ve forgotten my belt and my gloves. Perhaps on purpose, perhaps from over-excitement. I’m self-conscious and I drop my locker key. It skids across the tiled floor and I walk over to retrieve it from underneath a wooden bench. I stand and realise that from here I can see the whole gym and all of its patrons. I can smell their determination and taste their skill. It cowers me and I decide that, for the time being, I’ll just watch.
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