Gazing into the gym mirror, old man Isaac observes a bloated belly; a fat neck that balloons out in every direction; skin transitioning to wrinkled leather; a generous portion of randomly scattered skin tags; arms and a chest with no muscle tone; bony, stick figure like legs; and a head gone bald. Yet, Isaac persists in turning this way and that way, searching for his 25 year old in the mirror, hoping to find a vestige of his youth somewhere in the reflections. For now though, every angle in every mirror shows the accumulated wear and tear of many years of despair, with no sign of the young, physically virile man of his past.
Isaac can’t help but notice the twenty something men in the gym, with their big muscular arms and tough guy tattoos. They work the machines – pushing and pulling hefty loads of iron weight – with a fearless exuberance that alternates with angst driven grunts and groans. Their bodies respond with an impressive display of testosterone shaping power, that flexes and bulges and defines their masculine pride, without fear of bones cracking from osteoporosis or atrophied muscles rebelling with chronic pain. Isaac watches these men with a despondency, fearing that his goal of renewed health, vitality, and physical prowess may just be a delusion; that the diligent application of weights, cables, and machines may not change anything; that he is too old to become young again. After six months of workouts with progressively increasing loads of weight, nothing has changed for Isaac, except for the exacerbation of old aches and pains, and the addition of a few new ones. He is just as flabby and devoid of muscle tone as he was on his first day at the gym.
Between exercises, Isaac walks through the gym, observing the young women working their abs, thighs, and glutes with serious determination, as if perfecting those muscles somehow matters to the world; to their future success in life; or to whatever man or men they’ve set their sights upon. These women pay no attention to old Isaac though, and neither do the twenty something men, who pace slowly between lifts around their designated stations, displaying a toughness in their walk and talk, almost like they are doppelgangers of John Wayne. Isaac refers to them as the testosterone guys. They check the football scores on their phones, slap their buddies on the back, maybe shoot some hoops for a bit, or share a private joke about the hot girl on the Lifecycle, before returning to their lifts; but never do they acknowledge Isaac’s titanic effort to restore his old body to youthful vitality. Never do they notice Isaac wincing in pain on the nautilus machine, as he introduces new injuries to old injuries – hoping that the pain is worth the potential gain, which is a return to the masculine glory of yesteryear. Nobody pays any attention to these efforts; nobody pays attention to the old guy in the gym; nobody pays attention to poor Isaac.
Other old people drift like ghostly apparitions between the hard bodies of the gym, appearing just as forlorn about what they cannot do or be anymore. They acknowledge each other with a nod, “hello,” or just a stare of empathetic recognition, but old man Isaac looks the other way, not wanting to participate in their despair or ghostly appearance. He refuses to be one of them, as he wants to have physical substance, to be visible again, to feel and exhibit his strength. And so the old man continues his preparations for the return of the 25 year old, with the willingness to fracture a frail bone or tear a few age worn tendons as part of the process. Isaac, like many other old men, will do most anything to restore his physical presence in the world…to matter again through the spectacle of strength and formidable muscular form.
Note: This story is entirely fictional. All events, situations, circumstances, and characters depicted in this story are the products of my creative imagination. Any similarities between story characters and specific people in the real world are purely coincidental and unintentional. My characters are composites of “possible” personality types, behaviors, and quirks that interest me.
© 2017 David M. Rubin. All rights reserved.
Notes from David 