Fit to Print Volume 24 Issue 1 March 2015 | Page 14

M e m b e r Pe r s p e c t i v e By Christine Jelley How Gym Buddies Roll Sympathy, Support & Brutal Honesty (as Needed) return to my home. After this one showing, I noticed that my son had taken rubber, life-like carpenter ants and carefully placed them, infestation-style, outside his bedroom door. I gathered them and told him he couldn't do that while we were trying to sell the house. He said he didn't want anyone to buy it. Suddenly, an inevitable occurred to me, “Oh God, where's the dog?” I ran downstairs and opened the closet door where she was teetering uncomfortably on a pile of shoes. I asked her why she hadn't barked. M y gym buddy is the real estate agent who sold my house during my divorce. June is my neighbor's friend, and when I needed to sell my house she suggested that I call her. It was a bad time for the family - the kids were ages six and three and didn't understand that divorce meant leaving things we loved behind, like the house, the familiar school and the dock to fish off of in the summer. A few times I'd gotten calls from June saying that someone wanted to see the house in thirty minutes. I happened to have my college roommate down for a visit when I got one of these calls. She saw me run through the house, tossing toys into bins, pushing tricycles, a Batmobile, roller skates and a Big Wheels with my feet into the corners of the den. I made beds and fluffed pillows. I opened a hallway door and called for the dog to come sit in the coat closet while potential buyers were in the house, a command she'd become accustomed to. I mashed brown bananas and threw a Bisquick Banana Bread into the oven to infuse the house with a, “We'd be crazy not to buy this” aroma. When I finished, my college pal said, “I've never seen anything like that in my life.” Sometimes I'd hear prospects complain about my dining room wall paper with the blue fruit or the fact that we'd moved the laundry room upstairs. They'd said,”Um, that will go” and, “That makes no sense”. I'd feel defensive, then sad. I tried to be away as much as possible during the visits, running to exotic locations like CVS to look at my watch to see when it would be safe to 14 Your gym buddy will also tell you that your new green yoga pants are a mistake. It will go something like this: “Never wear those green pants again.” “I also have them in turquoise.” “Don't wear those either.” In due time, an engaged couple bought the house and we rented it back from them until they were ready to take possession in August. They promptly removed the blue fruit wallpaper. On the wall behind it I had written a note to my husband: “I love the man who put up this wallpaper”. A few months later I packed up the house, tossed an empty fishbowl (the kids' Betta fish had died. A stroke of luck, really, not having to transport him) and we started our new lives in Babylon. I joined Fitness Incentive on Main St., Babylon, went sporadically and June and I stayed in touch. She came over with new trucks for the boys at Christmastime. My older son commented, “June's not only our real estate agent. She's our friend.” She told me that it would be a good time to join her at the newly-relocated Fitness Incentive on Deer Park Avenue for something called Spin class. Spin class. I had no idea what that Spring 2015 FIT to Print meant. It wasn't aerobics class, it wasn't “Sweating to the Oldies”. It was this crazy stationary bicycle thing done in the dark, to music, with guidance and motivation by an absurdly high-energy gal named Carmella. We were hooked. If we didn't go at least three times a week, we were bums. On alternate days, we did the circuit. I added Stretch class at the suggestion of another gym buddy, Wendy. So, if this is all so great, why the need for a gym buddy? Because there are snowy mornings when bed sounds a lot better than, “TURN UP THE RESISTANCE AND RUN UP THAT HILL.” But you know that your gym buddy is counting on you to be there, so you go. Once in a while, however, you enable. February phone call: “Chrissy, it's June. It's too cold, I'm not going.” “Ok, but we have to go tomorrow. 8:15”. And we'd go. A gym buddy understands that twisted ankles, knee surgery, hurricanes and family emergencies are going to take precedence over the gym, but she helps you get on track after an absence and vice versa. Texts like these happen: “Pipes broke, house flooded, ceiling came down. Need the gym bad!” “OMG - let's do light gym and coffee. 8:15 EFX or treadmill?” “Either… I am eating hot cross buns.” <<>> “EFX. I am getting fatter by the second, my clothes hate me.” Your gym buddy will also tell you that your new green yoga pants are a mistake. After a workout, it will go something like this: “Never wear those green pants again.” “I also have them in turquoise.” “Don't wear those either.” After a too-long absence from the gym, my buddy and I are making our triumphant return on Monday. We will not let each other back out, because there's no house to sell, no kids with colds. A