Posted on: Monday, July 1, 2002

ABOUT MEN
Male bonding in weight room best suited to big-bicep crowd

By Mike Leidemann
Advertiser Staff Writer

The gym where I work out is a place of great physical bonding and brotherhood. I only wish I was a part of it.

Day and night, hulking men embrace each other in what can only be called bear hugs. They pound one another on the back. They growl out friendly (if incomprehensible) greetings across the workout floor. They engage in multi-step, secret-society handshakes. In the locker room, they share insights on muscle-building drinks the way winos used to pass around a bottle of Muscatel.

They speak to one another in a clipped code: "Quads, brah?" "Abs today." "In and out." "Breathe!"

Sometimes it seems like I'm the only one in the place who doesn't know the password. I yearn for a bear hug and three-piece handclasp. I long to be part of this sweaty society.

Instead, all I get is a quiet no-look look in the shower.

My problem, I think, is that I don't really work out in the right way.

About twice a week, I ride a stationary bicycle for 45 minutes. I get my heart pumping and my sweat pouring. I push my pulse to its 49-year-old limit. I do what I can to keep my heart healthy and my mind clear, to live long and prosper in a coming senior lifestyle. I think of it as body-saving, not body-building, exercise.

Apparently, it isn't enough. It's not a real man's workout. Or maybe, it's an old man's workout. Either way, it doesn't qualify me for the Brotherhood of the Biceps.

Women at the gym have their own fellowship thing, which seems to revolve around who attends what step classes led by what leaders. For all I know, initiation is based upon a particular brand of workout shirt or shoes. This is not an area that I long to be indoctrinated into, or even understand.

I know I should not be jealous. After all, I am at the gym for own well-being, not to be part of the health-club trend that has lasted almost two decades now. I'm not there to meet women — or men, for that matter. I'm there to stay healthy.

Still, I see connections being made all around and I envy the easy way friendship between bodybuilders becomes tangible. I see people reaching out and touching someone, quite literally. I hear the common language and long to speak it, too. It's got something to do with people who are comfortable with their body shape in a way in which I'm not.

Well, of course! They've built their bodies in a way I haven't. They've taken charge of their muscles, while I've let mine go to pot (well, beer, actually).

Never mind, I tell myself. Your wife loves you just the way you are. The cat, too, prefers your lap the way it is. Besides, if I just keep riding that stationary bicycle a couple of times a week, I'm going to live a long, long time, which is the best reward.

Still, just once, I long for one of those beefy guys to flash me a grin, pound me on the back and growl out some coded greeting that I'd understand.

"Quads? In and out? Upper torso?"

No, just the heart muscle today.

But thanks for asking.