BFD is an athlete, who works out regularly — he runs, he lifts weights, he swims — all in order to be more competitive in his sport.
I . . . am not. I have suffered a series of stress fractures in my foot, and I can no longer do my preferred exercise at all. I used to lift, I used to hit the trail regularly, but now, I am thin but not fit.
He is okay with my lack of physical fitness, in general (although when, weeks ago, I mentioned I was dieting he told me I just needed to workout and not get thinner), but I know he’s been looking for something we could share.
Tonight, we found it.
He has been doing a specific kind of training, one that I helped him find additional people to participate. It’s probably the most important thing he does in town other than work and me. Like having sex with me, he claims this training is an addiction. I have been excited to try it, but scared, too. He spends a ridiculous amount of money there and over time, he’s become more and more involved in the management of it. It’s who he is and it’s a big part of his life. He’s made friends there and has established a bit of a social life thanks to this training. Not much — but he sometimes grabs a snack with his cohorts and he gets invites to do other stuff.
So, onto BFD’s turf, I marched today. My original thought had been to go on my own, establish myself, get used to it, and then do it with him. (He travels a lot and I had a chance to go Tuesday when I knew he was booked.) But he wanted to be there when I did it, so I delayed two days.
He works out ahead of time, so I met him there — I bussed. The stop is across the street from my building, 8 minutes from the place, and frankly saving on parking was nice. I walked 2 blocks to the place and it was intimidating as hell. Everyone was young and beautiful. I was 30 minutes early. We’d had a registration problem, so I brought all of my stuff there, in case there were a problem. There wasn’t.
I wandered around, used the facilities, and did nothing for the first 15 minutes. Then, I saw the head guy in the room, clarified I was in the right place, and got myself in. To say I was intimidated would be an understatement. Everyone looked so assured, so professional, so freaking fit. There I was in short gym shorts, a tight sports tank and a sports bra, thinking, what the fuck am I doing. I felt like such an idiot. BFD was nowhere to be found, which was good. I walked up to the head guy, extended my hand, and introduced myself.
I told him that my friends have taken it, and who they were. He asked how I knew everyone, so I told him, and then he asked how I knew BFD. I . . . changed the subject. These are BFD’s people and it’s up to him to tell them, though my friends had mentioned me at the dinner two weeks ago. Still, I said, BFD and I were just trying to figure out how long he’s been doing it, and I think it’s November. The head guy said, oh, I think you’re right. I mentioned how much he loves it and how it’s helped. The head guy looked at me and said, yes, he’s much more limber . . .
And that’s when I knew he knew exactly who I was, but he allowed me to remain silent. Apparently, everyone knows my boyfriend is crazy.
I met the head guy’s SO, who took pity on me and showed me the ropes — stand here, watch this, don’t be scared. I told the head guy, no pointing and laughing at me.
There were 30-40 people there, nearly all thin and gorgeous, mostly women of all ages, and including BFD 4 men.
BFD was the last to arrive. He’s a star there, and we did not begin until he arrived. Seriously.
BFD, according to him, did not see me right away, so he thought I didn’t make it. He scanned the back and didn’t see me . . . because I was right in front. When he found me, we exchanged smiles and he took up a position as close to me as he could, which was still behind me and to the left. No time for pleasantries, as we began immediately.
The head guy made sure I could always see what he was doing, and his SO helped me get into the right positioning so I didn’t accidently get kicked, etc.
It was amazing. I was focused only on the head guy and when I couldn’t see him, on his SO, and I felt like I got it. Or at least started to get it. It was not too terrible and I did not make many obvious mistakes. After 15 minutes, we shifted positioning and BFD were facing towards each other. When I glanced up, he was beaming at me. Repeatedly. So thrilled I was there and enthusiastic. There was a mirror running the length of the room, of course, and when I caught sight of myself, I was always grinning ear to ear.
About halfway through, the head guy looked over at me and laughed as I struggled with something — so I laughed, too, and said, hey, I thought we agreed no laughing. He corrected me, no, you said no pointing and laughing. I looked at his SO and at BFD and said, that goes for you, two, too.
The whole experience was invigorating. I couldn’t get through some parts. Like push ups, seriously? I can barely open doors. But I was game. The head guy called me out on the pushups and I said, yeah, I am trying. BFD of course called over, how many did you do? I answered honestly “as many as I could.” Some things were easier for me thanks to pilates — ab work, no problem. Other things, like following increasingly complex movements . . . not so much.
Still, it was a blast. Afterward, I picked my bag up and wandered over to where BFD was picking up his stuff. I spoke with the head guy’s SO and thanked him and BFD joined us in conversation. He spoke to a couple of people without introducing me, which pissed me the fuck off. It’s just rude, and made them uncomfortable. I was standing off to the side to give him privacy, unclear about anyone’s relationships, etc., but the woman to whom he was speaking indicated that I was invited to whatever she was inviting him. He did not clue in, or invite me, or introduce me. I smiled at her, and again, everyone knows he’s an idiot.
He asked how I was getting home, and I said, you’re driving and he said, oh, um, I am supposed to have dinner with the head guy. And I said, . . . and? He spoke to head guy’s SO and realized head guy couldn’t do it, so we waited a couple of minutes and then bolted. He said, so, what did you think? I told him I was mad at him . . . I could have been doing this for months, and then I would be even hotter now than I already am.
We walked out to the car . . . and it was my car. He said, well, yeah, I felt like driving it. It’s still uninsured, but I wanted to take it out for a spin before I garaged it. Ridiculous. I gave him a bit of a hard time about it, which was okay.
He wanted something light, as did I, but frankly we were both starving and dehydrated, so we headed out of downtown and away from all the restaurants, and he decided to hit our favorite chinese joint, to which we’ve not been since his schedule fell apart. (At least we’ve not been together.) The drive was nice, we spoke a bit about the car, and I teased him about driving my car, and he corrected me “the car I lent to you.” Yes, true.
He was already stressed out, having received 15 emails since he left work and his training camp to which he’s been looking forward for 4 months — canceled. He took a business call as we prepared to enter the restaurant, so I gave him a few feet of privacy, and waited for the inevitable mournful . . . [Plan], we have to go. Which didn’t happen.
We took a back booth, of course, and settled in. BFD tried to with the hostess, failed, and finally ordered from our waitress: a bowl of soup, fried dumplings, orange beef, iced tea. She actually browbeat him into the dumplings, being very grandmotherly about it.
We shared everything. I picked at my food, calculating it’s impact on my diet. We talked about this and that. Mostly his stress and business. He was clearly distracted and stressed. I asked when he was leaving for camp, and he said, oh, sorry, I guess I didn’t tell you, I had to cancel.
Nope, you didn’t tell me. He mentioned his ex by name for the first time. I don’t know, dinner was just weird. He was stressed and distracted and said his bad time was going to extend into August.
He drove me home, and I invited him to a barbecue on Sunday (there is no way he will go, but said he’d consider it, though he dismissed it for being “so suburban.”) He kissed me a bit in the car. The kisses were great, as was the calling me honey and baby. He said we’d try to doing something on Friday (we won’t).
I shot him a follow-up email thanking him for the class. A couple of hours later, I called, because I felt a little weird about teasing him about the car. He was very sweet and very cool about that too.