This bike had a television in front, headphones and a pulse rate monitor.This bike had a television in front, headphones and a pulse rate monitor. As I pedaled, the forest path scene on the TV kept pace, and the headphones murmured with rustling leaves and bird calls. After what seemed like seconds, Brian's hand was on my shoulder. I peeled off the headphones and followed him to the next station. All of the equipment was similarly state-of-the-art, and before long, I had exhausted myself. Brian commended me on my performance (I'm sure he said that to all the first-timers), gently reminded me that only regular visits can bring you real fitness, and sent me off to the showers. My tight muscles ached deliciously as I padded over the carpeted floor to my locker. When my shorts came off, the air conditioning whirled around my steaming thighs and crotch. I closed my eyes for a moment and leaned back, propping myself up by the elbows on the wooden bench, drooping my legs over either side to let the cool air circulate. My eyelids sprung open when I heard the catch of a locker nearby. When I focused, there was a man standing not three feet from my knees. It must have been quite a sight, my legs spread wide, my crotch practically pointed right at him. I sprung upright and pulled one leg over the bench so fast that I scraped it. "It's okay," the man smiled. "I had a tough workout myself today. I haven't seen you here before--are you a first-timer?" I nodded. |