Pulse racing, I lay on the floor. I envisioned a crowd gathering around with paramedics ordering the crowd to stand back as they readied themselves to apply CPR. Roused from my reverie, I felt Joe’s hand on my shoulder. “Mr. Blake,” I heard him say. I sat up on the gym mat, breathing hard. My face was red. “I can’t be your trainer anymore. The risk is too great.” Joe continued. “I pushed you too hard. You’ll have to get a doctor’s release to continue with your training.”

Wow! My trainer had fired me. “You can continue using the equipment,” he assured me, “but the club cannot assume the responsibility for your training.” Disappointed and sheepish I stood up, shook Joe’s hand, thanked him, and made my way to the Life Cycle machine where Joe had trained me the day before.

At a regular check up two years ago Dr. Chin indicated he was afraid to send me out on the street because my blood pressure had registered so high. I assured him I could get it back under control with exercise and attention to my food intake. He scheduled a follow up appointment for a month later.

Neither an exercise nor a diet program took place. I weighed in two pounds heavier at my next appointment just thirty days later. My blood pressure was still high. Dr. Chin was reluctant to put me on a medication. Instead he put me on parole. I was to chart my blood pressure daily and was given another thirty-day reprieve. I assured him I would begin a walking regime

Clyde, my older brother had died in his sleep, of heart failure, six months earlier. I felt doomed. I accepted as fact, “My days are numbered.” At the end of thirty days I returned for the verdict. The sporadic walking exercise had not done the job. We talked about quality of life. Again I thought, “It’s over.”

Dr. Chin gave me samples of a prescription medication and a life expectancy of at least thirty days as I made another appointment for a month away. By the end of the first week I was beginning to mellow. Nothing seemed to faze me. Procrastination became a password. There was another side affect that bothered me. I tired more easily. As each day progressed I experienced a feeling of lethargy. By late afternoon my eyes were crossing. Monthly appointments became routine. We tried a new prescription, and another.

I started walking more regularly. Thelma put me on low sodium, low fat, and no taste diet. I shared my dilemma with anyone who would listen and soon discovered that almost half of my friends and acquaintances were on a program of their own. The anxiety level went down and things started going better. Hope returned. Life returned to normal.

In January of 2004 I closed my business. My schedule changed significantly. Within a few weeks, I was no longer on any kind of an exercise program. Although my check ups were quarterly now instead of monthly, Dr. Chin quickly picked up on the change. He gave me an ultimatum. I was to walk an hour a day, four days a week or suffer the obvious consequences. He walked regularly. Why couldn’t I?

The feeling of doom returned. Again, I failed to implement a walking regime. A few months later, in desperation, I scheduled an appointment with the “24 Hour Fitness Center” in San Leandro. I rationalized, “If I have to pay for it, I will do it”.

And now, my second day at the gym and I was being rejected. Physically challenged I feel like a misfit. I mounted the cycle. I programmed the machine: cardiac, twenty minutes, age seventy-four, just as Joe had taught me. I was well on my way to an exercise program and years of additional longevity.

At the end of the twenty minutes the slow down period kicked in. The timer began ticking down to zero. At zero I read the summary of my day’s workout. I had ridden nine miles, burned off one hundred fifteen calories, and maintained a heart rate of one hundred one.

Although I am not technically intuitive, I am a good observer. After days of watching others doing stomach crunches on a machine nearby, I have added this to my repertoire of exercise skills. Over the years I have consistently failed the stress test exercises in the doctor’s office but plan to bravely venture out soon to try the treadmill. The stair step machine is another intriguing possibility.

I have spotted a few friends at the fitness center on a regular basis. One friend checks me off on an imaginary clipboard as I greet him. I stand a little taller and pull in my stomach as I greet other friends hoping they will notice the remarkable change in my physique.

I can now report to Dr. Chin that I have an exercise plan. My biggest reward comes from these six words, “Thelma, I’m going to the gym.” These words boost my self-esteem and are self-affirming. I me feel young again. Her six words of caution go unheard, “Be careful, and don’t over do.”