Jim at the Gym

When I moved back to Michigan, I rejoined my old gym. Not much had changed in the three years I was gone, and there were quite a few of the same people. While many of the faces were familiar, aside from a quick "Good morning", I hadn't really spoken to more than a handful of them.

Every day, while I'm running on the treadmill, I watch an elderly man walk down the long corridor in his driving cap and leather gloves and head to the locker room. Every day, he walks one mile on the treadmill next to me. Every day, we say our hellos and then he asks for the television remote, because everyone knows that this man prefers FOX News over any of those worthless morning talk shows!  And I never argue because I'm not coordinated enough to run AND watch television.

Then last fall, he started talking to me.  He'd finish his one mile and then come and stand directly in front of me while I ran and talk.  At first it started with running.  "How far today?"  "What are you training for?"  "That's a great pace-twice as fast as I can walk a mile!"  On occasion, he'd say a bit more: where he had worked, places he had visited, how he loved race cars.  One day, he told me that he walks because his doctor said he needed to walk a mile every day if he wanted to keep on living, but no MORE than a mile, if he wanted to keep on living.  So, he walks one mile every day-no more, no less.

Recently, he's been talking quite a bit-for as long as two or three miles of my runs.  I mostly listen, and he talks and talks.  Lately, I've learned that his wife is in a neck brace because she fell (out of her own pride to not accept assistance walking up the front steps, I'm told) and fractured a vertebrae in her neck.  So he's been taking her all over town for doctor appointments and beauty shop appointments.  And last week when I questioned him about why he wasn't there one morning, he told me he had opted to snow-blow all of the neighbors' driveways and sidewalks after the snowstorm.  Please note: When I referred to this man as elderly, I meant that he's at LEAST in his late 80's.  Yes, I reassured him, that definitely counted as his workout for the day.

Yesterday, he told me that since we were becoming friends, he'd like to introduce himself, noting that he's terrible with names but never forgets a face.  I was relieved to hear this because most of the time when someone tells me their name, I forget it by the time I finish saying, "Nice to meet you."  But this introduction was easy.  He said, "My name is Jim.  You can remember it because we're at the gym."  And by the time I finished telling him my name was Amie, he was already starting a story about the nut rolls he was making for a yearly fundraiser for an organization he belongs to, and the rest of my run flew by.

Today, just like clockwork, he finished his walk and came to talk with me.  He said that the nut rolls were finished and were ready to be sold and mentioned they'd be selling them at the fish fry on Friday night.  When I asked if it was through a church organization, he said yes and told me which church.  Wouldn't you know it's the same church Grandma Lois was a member of?  I asked him if he knew her-of course he did!  And there was an outpouring of good memories about her.  He told me what a kind and friendly person she was and how she always had gone out of her way to come over and speak with him at church.  He mentioned how she managed to travel all over the world-even in her 90's and that he had traveled everywhere, too.  My heart warmed to know that this man had also known our sweet Grandma Lo.

And then, Jim said something even more incredible.  He said, "We traveled all over with good friends.  Our friends at the block company..."  WAIT.  The block company?  I know who owns the block company.  "Jackie? Are you talking about Jackie?!  I know Jackie," I said.  I explain that Jackie was the best friend of the woman whose house we had recently bought.  And then he said, "You live in Betty Ann's house?  I knew Betty Ann for more than 50 years.  My wife was friends with her.  They had this club, called the Presidents' Club."  And then he told me their story...

The Presidents' Club was started a loooooooong time ago by a group of farm wives who all desperately needed a night off.  Once a month they would meet, taking turns hosting the group at their homes.  If a farmer protested to his wife leaving for a night, she'd say, "I have to go, I'm the PRESIDENT!"  And so it began.  At first they were young mothers, meeting to talk about babies and to make baby clothes and blankets. Then they met to talk about their kids in school and teachers and school functions. And then they would meet to plan graduation parties and discuss college aspirations.  And then they would meet to plan weddings and to sew precious things for their daughters who would soon be brides.  And then it was grandchildren.  And then it was great-grandchildren. And now?  Now there are just a few remaining members, the last ones standing who carried this club on for decades, with more stories than you could ever count.  Isn't that amazing?  And the fact that this story was about the lady who lived in my house and hosted this group of women is something to always be treasured.

Needless to say, today's miles flew by.  And then, just when I thought he was finished talking for the day, Jim said one more thing.  "You know those internet dating sites?  You can't really tell who those people are.  The best way to get to know someone is to sit face to face and talk for an hour.  You'll know within that hour whether you're interested in their life.  You have nothing to worry about though, Amie.  I'm keeping you around."