The Workout

This morning, I spent an hour with the workout crew doing an intense aerobic calisthenics workout. I’m exhausted. One of the building mentors is a 38 year old man named Randy. Randy is a mountain of a man, 6’4”, muscled and with the personality of a Marine Corp drill instructor. About two years ago he earned his Associates Degree and shortly thereafter completed certification as a personal trainer. Randy may in fact be the most structured man I’ve ever met. He makes me look like “Mr. Spontaneity”.



Randy gets up every morning at 3:00 am. He has a routine synchronized from that point forward. Each day is planned by the minute. He tracks calories and workout routines for his “crew”. Three days running and calisthenics, two days weight training.


Three guys work out with him. There’s Ced, a 32 year old from Richmond. He’s easygoing and polite but another guy in top physical shape. There’s J – mid thirties and strong. He walks with a pronounced limp due to a drug deal gone bad. A “buyer” tried to rob him and shot him in his right leg shattering his tibia. He fired back and killed the buyer. He’s serving 25 years.


Finally, there’s “Cali”. I’ve written before about Cali’s conviction for marijuana distribution. What I didn’t mention is Cali is huge and a big weight pile user.


I also failed to mention that all four guys are black. So, how does a 51 year old white guy get invited to join the crew for work? Before I moved over here I’d watch these guys work out while I’d run (they were all in “2” building, next to me on the west side). Frankly, four huge, muscular black guys running and yelling out numbers intimidated me.


But, me being me, when they all ended up in the college dorm (all four guys are the nonacademic aides), I started “hangin” with them. I discovered they were all cool, easy going guys. J is a Rastafarian and very interested in politics. They all are willing to talk about race issues and justice. Every preconceived notion I had about the crew was shattered in just a few short conversations. They think I’m the coolest white dude they’ve ever met. I think God’s telling me something about my old way of thinking and seeing.


8:00 am and I’m jogging a couple of laps to loosen up. Then, I’m one of the crew spread out on the basketball court doing assorted lunges, squats, leg kicks, you name it. Randy’s barking out “give me a count” and through grunts I join the chorus of “one, and two and three”.


“Keep your hips straight, Larry. Pull your feet in.” My form is terrible, but I refuse to quit. It’s 28 degrees out, yet I am sweating out of every pore.


Next set of exercises begins with leg raises and abdominal flexors. There’s no break. I’m just focused on the exercise, focused on the number.


“A side, door break” is announced over the speaker. We start our last rep, then it’s over. My muscles ache but all the guys come up and “dap me” (hit fists) and give me a hug.


“You made it Lawyer Larry. You hung in there.”


I thank the guys for their patience. I walk in and sit down. I think about the 23rd Psalm, not sure why, but it hits me. I’ve been in the valley for years, yet God has always been with me, guiding me, teaching me, opening my mind and heart.


It’s a beautiful day. I can’t wait to workout with the crew next weekend.