Planet o' Fitness

It's been months, but I finally made it to the gym this morning. I'm always surprised at how many other people are there at 5:30 in the morning, and how the music is already loud. It seemed too loud this morning.
A few months ago I met with a physical fitness consultant because I was looking for a low impact exercise routine. I've got a few medical conditions that make getting into the habit of exercising a bit of a chore. When most people say "oh, sure it hurts at first, but once you get into it the pain goes away and you start to enjoy it." Not for me, it always hurts. And leaves me achy long after I've left the elliptical for some other sweaty soul to abuse.
But anyway.
This consultant berated gyms for being too busy; what with a row of televisions, the blasting music, the sound of everyone else frothing at the mouth while trying to get a better body, there is no room to pay attention to your own body, she stated.
So as I pushed myself along to the beat of some high-octance music from the '80/'90s (apparently the best eras for motivational exercise music) I tried to listen to everything else that was going on around me. I can't hear the row of TVs because the volume is down on them. In order to hear them you have to rent earphones, or bring your own. So I always have this sort of Orwellian (that's probably not the right descriptor) experience with the TVs; they're trying to overload me with information but can't.
An unknown machine in the gym was complaining for lack of oil on a gear, and the rest of the machines mumbled along. No set rhythm, but the noise from the machines is a constant presence. (I'm getting some deja vu while writing this) And the combined noise from the machines would be enough to drown out the music if the gym didn't have it pumped up so high.
Fragments of conversation make their way through the mumbling machines because people have to speak up to be heard. There is a clank of weights, the chink of pins being replaced, sneakered footfalls on the floor.
And despite all of the commotion and how it can support the consultants theory, ain't no one going to distract me from what my body is feeling except myself. And I'm more bored trying to exercise in my own apartment than in a gym.
There is at least a swell of humanity around me at the gym. All of the noise becomes background if I don't pay attention to it. Exercising becomes a moving meditation where I just keep noticing what's going on. Noticing and noticing until I decide to look down and notice that the machine is already counting down to the end of the timer.