Synergetic

In life, a person can, on occasion, have the thrilling sensation of stepping into a place where previously he or she had only passed by. At times the experience can be revelatory. One might shout, "I had no idea the city could look this beautiful from way up here!" upon first seeing Manhattan from the Empire State Building. At other times the feeling can be remarkable in an entirely different fashion. For example, being blown away by the food and bustling atmosphere of the Malaysian restaurant near Chinatown that you said you would never, ever, under any circumstance step foot inside.
Tonight, after an early dinner with my friend Sarah, we made the short but brisk trek back from Sullivan and Prince Streets to our shared apartment building on Spring and Elizabeth. On the way home we stopped first for a few snacks at the neighborhood grocery store and then, to my surprise, took an unexpected detour and headed deep down into the heart of the Mulberry Street Synergy Fitness Club.
This was an establishment that I myself had a tumultuous relationship with, spanning nearly four years. I'd lived in the area long enough to be around for its conception, the morning sickness that ensued and ultimately its birth. I'd scurried past the varied assortment of employees who had camped on my sidewalks with flyers and promotional materials during the hot summer months. And ultimately had come to appreciate and resent the fitness club when its intoxicating powers and promise of a better life had lured in my roommate of that time.
The Synergy gym was a place that I knew of and recognized, even wondered about on occasion (what with its large metal doors and discrete underground facilities) but was never a place that I entered. It was simply another world, the tunnel to a universe where I did not belong. As if it was the flip side of a looking glass that could show someone else's reflection, but never mine.
So, it was with a strong sense of anticipation and a sharp hint of nervousness that I descended the stairs of this very place on this very evening. Synergy Gym had posted a promotion that was running at a remarkably low rate. And combined with the immediate proximity to our building and the fact that we'd been talking about joining a gym for months, it made perfect sense that Sarah and I would venture inside sooner or later. This just happened to be our night. Once below, I was blown away not by the size (it's a tiny and aesthetically underwhelming gym compared to what I've seen thus far) nor by its grandeur (remarkably the only women exercising were older and heavy-set and they stood out against the bevy of attractive young men, who for all their muscles could not muster the aura of, "We're Exclusive! Don't You Wanna' Be Just Like Us??!!") Really I was just taken aback by the fact that I was in a place that I'd never thought I'd end up, as well as a place that had taken me so long to get to. It was like walking into the hallways of what will become your High School on that first, traumatizing day or what I imagine it must be like to take your first steps down the aisle.
It was just a gym. One that I wasn't, and still am not even sure I want to join. But it had been there all along, directly below me. It had annoyed me on days when I just wanted a sidewalk to myself. It had taken people I cared about away from me and had spit them back out sweating and refreshed. And now I was here, underground, being given a tour by a friendly if not at all in-shape employee named Tommy.
It's hard to justify spending any more money on myself than necessary during the holiday season and who knows whether or not I'll join. "It's your HEALTH!" my friend shouted to me as we discussed the pros and cons a short while later back at her place. "It's my VANITY is more like it!" I replied back. I really don't know what we, she or I will decide. But I do know that we are scheduled to come back for a trial visit tomorrow evening at seven o'clock and I also have to admit that I'm a little bit excited. Excited at the thought of re-entering this world that at last, much against my will, I could be a part of. And sad that I'll never again have that rush of taking my first step inside.