The rhythm of my wrapped hands beating against the faded punching bag echos around the desolate gym. Sweat covers my body in a light sheen as I pound out my frustration. Breathing coming out fast and husky. Its just another day at the gym, releasing all the frustration of my mentally exhausting day.
My frustrated grunts and exclamations are lost in the sound of my booming stereo. Feet dancing to the beat, I lose myself to the music. Not thinking about the presentation tomorrow. Not thinking about the fight with my boss. Not thinking about my college girlfriend stressing out about work, exams and bills. Not now. In this moment it's just me, the music and gym.
I've been coming here every day for two years. I started this routine in college when I got so stressed out over finals I took it out on the nearest wall. Final result? A high score on my exam, a hole in my apartment wall and a busted hand. I found this small, reasonably priced gym within walking distance of my office and apartment. I've been coming here ever since.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Fast and faster my swings become as the bass booms in my ears, blood pounding through my veins.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Just a little more. Keep going.
Thud. Thud.
With a final burst of energy, I attack the bag in frustration. With my last blow, my arms fall limp at my sides, completely spent. I sit down on a nearby stool, panting. I glance down at my blood-soaked wraps. I silently groan.
Not again.
Tenderly peeling away the red cloth, I examine my torn up knuckles. I sigh. Andrea is not going to like this in the slightest. Picking up my gym bag, I toss the wrap into my laundry bag. I send up a silent prayer that I can wash them before she sees them. Stealing into the locker room, I peel off my sweaty shirt and steal a glance in the mirror. Sleek arms full of lean muscle, toned abdomen and defined hipbones; all products of my daily work outs. I smile at the thought despite myself while I undress and step into the tile shower.
The steam envelopes me as the hot water cleans my skin of sweat and filth of the day. I like to imagine all the stress and anxiety I feel slowly filtering out of my skin, sliding down my body and swirling around my feet before slipping down the hungry drain. I stand there with closed eyes until the water runs cold.
After quickly towel drying off and shaking out my shaggy hair, I throw on my sweatshirt and jeans. Gym bag slung over my shoulder, I head out. The walk home is brisk and calming, the sun just dipping behind the skyline of buildings. Another day come and gone, leaving me with the peace to continue on until tomorrow.
