The Unsaid Battle

in voilk •  last month

    pexels-olly-treadmil.jpg
    Photo by Andrea Piacquadio

    The sound of machines whirring and weights clunking came to the fore as the door closed behind me. The familiar and pungent smell of body odor put me at ease as I made my way up the stairs. “This is my domain,” I thought to myself, “try and take it from me if you can!”

    I entered the room at the top of the stairs. “Hi Janie”, said the receptionist as I passed by. I replied in step with a cursory wave. I scanned the room left to right looking for a target. Running potential candidates through my internal checklist.

    Do they look athletic?
    Will they fight or flight?
    Are they a worthy opponent?

    My eyes were drawn to a woman dressed in gym pants and a shirt at the exercise bikes. She was slightly taller than me. Her clothing clung tightly to her body and it was impossible to ignore the contours of toned muscles flexing with her every motion. Her hair was tied in a bun and a white sweatband wrapped snugly around her head locking everything in place. She looked serious.

    This was like a red flag to a bull for me. Ticking off my internal criteria. I moved in, like a lioness stalking its prey. I advanced with purpose in every step, being careful not to let her know I was there. This was not my first rodeo, I had done this dance many times before.

    I positioned myself diagonally behind my target on a nearby bike. I was close enough to observe, but not so obvious to be noticed. I continued my reconnaissance while starting a gentle cycle to warm up and prepare my body for what was to come. For a moment, my mind wandered, I thought about my failing marriage that felt beyond repair and my children's lives that could potentially be upended. This gym was my one oasis among family troubles and a mundane, passionless job. "If only life was as easy as going to the gym," I pondered. "I would be slaying it left, right and center."

    The thud of a weight dropping to the floor brought my focus back to the here and now. I need to create a name for this unknown target. It is something I always did to make it more personal. The names would often be after an animal that I perceived as weaker in the animal kingdom. "Let’s call her Buffy after the buffalo," I thought. She looks solid and her muscles are buff. That is a fitting name that acknowledges her strengths. But little does this buffalo know that she is soon going to be prey to a ravenous lioness.

    Buffy finished on her exercise bike and moved to the treadmills. “This was my moment”, I thought. I made my move. Disembarking from my bike, I followed, and set up on the treadmill next to Buffy.

    I caught a glance of Buffy as she put her bottle in the holder. Her body glistened as rays of light reflected off the sweat on her tanned skin. She looked primed after her cycle. “What a fine specimen”, I thought.

    Buffy’s treadmill beeped as she entered her preferences and began at a steady pace. I adjusted my settings to mirror those of Buffys. At first, this would have seemed coincidental, but every push on the machine was followed by an audible beep. When Buffy increased her pace, I would quickly match it. The to and fro continued and each time that I matched Buffy, I would turn my head and try to bait her with a knowing look.

    After the third time, Buffy finally gave in and locked eyes with me. “Gotcha,” I thought. Time seemed to stand still as we studied each other’s expressions. Buffy's face said ‘game on’ and her eyes were focused and seemed to drill into me with a steely intent. This confirmed my first impressions that she is more than just an athletic body, but a competitor and she will not make it easy.

    The pace escalated quickly, going up like a staircase. Buffy would set the speed faster and I would readily match it. It would plateau for a while, to be further escalated again by Buffy. Neither of us was showing any sign of giving in. The unsaid tension was palpable. The pace was punishing and it was pushing me to my limit. My thighs were burning and feeling heavier with every step. It wouldn’t be long before I went into oxygen debt. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead and ran down to my mouth leaving a lingering salty taste. I didn’t risk disrupting my rhythm by wiping them away - I pushed on.

    Then the dopamine flooded my brain and I entered a state of hallucination. The gym surroundings seemed to disappear and I was running in my nation's colors toe to toe with Buffy. The crowd was roaring and chanting my name “Janie! Janie! Janie!” This was just the motivation I needed to spur me on.

    Feeling a second wind, I felt it was now my time to show what I could do. Up until this point I had been following Buffy. I wondered, “What will Buffy do if I increase the speed?” I felt that I need to push her until she breaks as I can not win a battle of attrition. This will be my final roll of the dice. So with a push of a button and a beep, I increased the speed. “Come on, I need this win," I whispered under my breath.

    Buffy quickly matched my new speed. I had held it together up until this point, but I could keep it in any longer. In a loud voice, I shouted “Come on! Come on! Come on! Psyching myself up, I reached forward and with another push and a beep I set the speed at a full-on sprint. Buffy reached forward to match, but she lost her rhythm and stumbled catching herself on the side bars. I raced on, across the finish line yelling out at the top of my voice ‘Woohoo!’ “Yes, I did it!’ At this moment, I snapped out of my hallucination and was not running in the Olympics, but was on a treadmill at my gym. Everyone had stopped and was staring awkwardly wondering what all the commotion was about.

    I hopped off the treadmill with a swagger in my step. I was elated and made my way to the changing rooms with a triumphant and wry smile. I made sure to look towards Buffy who was now catching her breath on a nearby chair. I gave Buffy a look of respect that said, “I know that you know we were in a battle, and I came out on top.”

    “There she goes again,” I heard someone mutter from one of the casuals in the Pilates group. They had been watching this episode unfold with great curiosity.

    On the way out of the gym, I noticed a flier on the notice board. It read:

    Spin Class
    Come and join us for a new type of workout.
    Daily 40min sessions AM and PM
    Have you got what it takes?

    I smiled to myself as I wrote down the date and time on my phone. I then walked out the door and returned to my mundane job and my failing marriage.

    THE END


    This post is in response to theinkwell fiction prompt #190 "storm the castle!"

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