Part of one of the short stories included in Zach’s newest
installment to his Iron Journeys series.
Zach’s an occasional visitor to the site and generally just a good
guy. Stories included are historical
fiction; Rooted in some experiences but also some “iron lore” as well. It’s available on Amazon: https://a.co/d/03EVvd4Z
Atlantic Fitness Club
In my early 20’s I was getting frustrated with the local
gyms. I had a burning desire and a calling to be part of a high energy, intense
atmosphere and I was like that since day one when I began training in my
brother’s room. I HATED being in a gym where the music was low and the energy
felt flat. I hated those days when I would walk into a gym and the music was so
quiet that it felt like I walked into a library. I’d have to muster the courage
as a young teen to ask the front desk worker to play my cassette tape and make
the music louder and they always responded as if I was interfering with what they
wanted. Looking back, I realize how lazy this was of the front desk worker.
It’s NOT about them. It’s about the lifters. That’s the way it always should
be!
My mom always said she knew when I was going to the gym
because 30 minutes before leaving for the gym, the house would shake as I
blasted the stereo in my room. I would read Arnold’s Encyclopedia and visualize
myself destroying the gym, lifting heavy and being intense!
After leaving a few local gyms in the Edison, NJ area because
of their weak atmosphere, I found a small gym in a neighboring blue collar town
and it was a hole in the wall type gym. Maybe 1600 sq. ft. or so. I had trained
in Edison, Woodbridge, Rahway and was running out of options to find a TOUGH
gym.
I knew about this one gym because sometimes when I was a kid,
my family would drive past it and we would see the big trophies in the front window.
As a young kid looking out the car window, I would imagine what type of
lifters, bodybuilders and strong men were in there. I had read my older brother’s
bodybuilding magazines and saw what strong people looked like. From the 80’s
guys like Tom Platz, Lou Ferrigno, Lee Haney, Richie Gaspari and of course the
guys of the 70’s, aka The Golden Era. Men like Casey Viator and Mike Mentzer
really inspired me. They had a dense build that exuded strength and I wanted to
achieve that look!
When I was young, I assumed everyone in a gym was big and
strong and so my memory always had a place reserved for Atlantic Health Club.
But now I wasn’t a young kid, I was a young man and had some solid training and
bodybuilding experience. I was confident that I could walk into any gym and
earn the respect of others.
The inside of Atlantic Fitness Club was crowded with
equipment and dingy. There was lots of equipment that I was always tightening
the bolts on before using them. The guy behind the desk had a ratchet set and
let me fix everything. I guess he didn’t care enough to fix it himself and that
was fine by me. Everything in this gym was therapeutic for me. I loved being
there.
I would replace all the equipment that was left on the floor
or on the bars and then would stay after another 15-20 minutes to tighten up
any bench of bolt that was loose because I felt an inner peace in doing this.
This experience of cleaning and fixing also gave me a sense of ownership. And
lastly, by cleaning and repairing equipment, I felt like it was a sign of
respect towards the weights. A sign of respect toward the IRON GODS.
In the back of the gym, there were 3 speed bags and 3 heavy
bags. There was a back door you could access after going up a few stairs and
there was a small back yard. In the back yard there was a makeshift boxing
ring. The floor of the “ring” was not canvas, it was dirty and a few patches of
grass. The boxing ropes were all different colors and materials. I recall one
of the ropes was an old fire hose. It was pieced together by spare parts and
there was always a crowd out back. Some guys training, some guys coaching
boxing and some guys shadow boxing. Here and there you would see someone smoking
a cigarette but they were never judged. I have no clue why, but we didn’t pay
any mind to it. Even in the winter the action in the back never ended. The guys
just bundled up in layers.
I vividly recall the punching bags in the back of the gym.
The bags were all secured to the wall and the ceiling and I felt like this was
modeled after TOUGH GYM in Rocky III. What keeps this memory so clear in my
mind was the wood that secured these punching bags and the random light bulbs
hanging from the ceiling. The wood looked like old drift wood that was glossed
over 50 times. The old wood reminded me of photos I used to see of Dave Draper
who built custom furniture from boardwalk wood that fell off the Santa Monica
Pier. Whoever built the walls
surrounding the boxing bags was a master at his craft. It was true art.
