*Disclaimer: Mentions and depictions of cheating in this one.*
I’ve never been invested in exploring social life at the gym. I go, I exercise, I mind my own business. It didn’t take long for the parade of beautiful curves in the locker room nude to become background noise I filtered while stripping out of my own sweaty clothes.
There was something about her, however, that captured me since the moment our eyes met. Love at first sight, really, without realizing it. After all, how could one realize that love has been found in the powerlifting class?
She was not a gym bombshell, an athleisure model. Her beauty was partly in her relatability: in a world of difference, she was like me. A good wife, a good mom, a good citizen fighting to gather enough minutes for herself, not for others. There were wrinkles around her eyes, whites in her hair, a healthy dose of sag in her boobs. Legs to die for, I learned by locker room day two.