Chapter 12 – A Run In at the Gym

Come Saturday, I knew I should have gone into the office to catch up on some of my work that was waylaid by the whole "Is this the best you can do" episode. At least, that is what I started to call it in my mind. I was still mad, mostly at myself, about that situation and I thought that instead what I really needed was a good work out to refocus my energy. My new apartment had a gym on the second floor and I had yet to use it. Sometimes I would run, although I hated it. I only did it when I was short on time and needed to get in some type of work out. It was time efficient; I could burn a lot of calories in a short period of time. But truth be told, my passion, other than the law, was yoga. And not just any yoga, but Ashtanga yoga. It is a vigorous practice and I love the discipline I developed from doing the same sequence every practice. Even though the sequence was the same, the practice never was, depending on how I felt that day, physically and mentally. Being a Saturday, I had time, so I grabbed my mat and headed down to the gym.

I stepped out of the elevator onto the second floor and right into Eric Northman. Literally. I face planted into his very sweaty, hard, taut, muscular chest… but I digress. Seriously, this was really becoming a somewhat annoying habit. After we collided, we regained our balance and our eyes met. Of course, he was smirking. I wanted to forestall any sort of snide remarks, so I just jumped right in.

"I know, I know," I interjected, "Yada yada, wear a bell, yada yada, it's becoming a habit. Seriously, I have no idea why this keeps happening," I said in a very exasperated way. God, I needed to do my yoga.

"Maybe it's happening because you're drawn to me," Eric said with a slight, but adorable leer. I just couldn't stay mad, or exasperated, in the face of his waggling brows and I laughed in spite of myself.

"You coming or going?" I asked.

"Coming actually. I hate running on treadmills when the weather is so nice, so I did my run outside and now I'm going to lift weights. Yoga huh?" Eric asked, nodding in the direction of my yoga mat.

"Yeah, I love it, what can I say?" I shrugged. I was used to people, especially men, commenting on me doing yoga. I didn't need to be a mind reader to know that they drew certain conclusions about me, i.e., they thought it meant I was easy, sexy, flexible (which was actually true), that I was good in bed (which I had no basis to form any opinion about), or any number of other assumptions that men tend to make about women who do yoga. I'd become numb to it.

"I need something more challenging than yoga, you should try weights," Eric suggested. I stifled my laugh, but I could not restrain my smile.

"Seriously? Have you ever tried Ashtanga yoga? Or Bikram yoga? I think you would find yourself more than challenged," I said with a laugh. He looked confused and I knew immediately that his idea of yoga was a bunch of women sitting around in lotus position chanting Om. "Let's just say the type of yoga I do appeals to a lot of type As. Madonna's big guns? Ashtanga yoga. Sting's physique? Ashtanga yoga." I purposefully left out the part about the 12 hour tantric sex-capades that it's claimed Sting could do, in part as a result of his yoga practice. I didn't really need to go there. "I started doing yoga in law school and other than my roommate Amelia and my deep love of coffee, my yoga practice kept me sane. It's empowering, like a very demanding moving meditation. You should give it a try," I suggested.

Eric's face broke into a huge smile. "Are you going to teach me Sookie?"

I hesitated, but only for a moment. "Well, I've never taught anyone before, but if you're serious, then yeah, I guess I would. I know a lot of guys tend to shy away from yoga, in part because they aren't naturally flexible and they think it's emasculating, but I promise, the practice is equal parts strength and flexibility. Besides, if men aren't flexible, then shouldn't they work on that? I mean, I find people always tend to avoid exactly what it is that they need. It's human nature to play to our strengths and avoid doing anything that really challenges us." At my words, Eric's smile fell a little and he seemed more contemplative.

After a pause, he said "Maybe you're right Sookie," and there was a whole other world of meaning in his words, but for the life of me, I didn't know what it was.

"Well, if you're serious, let me know," and with that, I walked towards the gym with Eric right behind me. He picked up his pace, and before I reached the door his long arm reached out from behind me and pushed it open. I appreciated the gesture and gave him a smile in thanks.

Eric went over to the weight machines and I went into the aerobics room. The gym was very open and airy, much like the apartments. It had all of the bells and whistles too: showers, locker rooms, saunas, steam rooms, even a juice bar by the entrance. Of course, like most gyms, there were mirrors everywhere. The cardio machines lined one wall and the weights another. The aerobics room was located at the end of the gym, separated only by a glass wall, so everyone could see what was going on inside. I suspect it helped get people to join the myriad fitness classes that the gym offered. One would be more likely to join a class if they knew what they were getting themselves into. Luckily, I had timed this right and there were no classes scheduled to go on while I was using the room. So, I unfurled my mat, stood at the front of it with my hands in prayer position, and mentally recited the opening mantra. Once I was done I took a deep cleansing breath.

I don't know what possessed me, but before I started the poses, I turned my head and looked out the glass wall and what I saw caused my breath to catch in my throat. Eric was doing squats in his oh so short running shorts, with his back to the glass wall. He moved up and down rhythmically, his glutes clenching on the way up and releasing on the way down. His toned, muscular thighs strained with the additional weights he carried in his hands, and his sweat rain in rivulets down his body, accentuating each and every muscle under the florescent lights. He was so mouthwatering; I couldn't help but openly admire the view. After a moment or so, his set was done and before he could put his weights down and catch me staring at him, I quickly turned back to face the front of my mat. I was so disappointed in myself. This was so very un-yogic of me. I took a few more centering breaths to try to get myself focused on my practice, but the image of Eric's backside was forever seared into the backs of my eyelids. I could think of worse things to have burned into one's mind's eye, but it was distracting nonetheless.

Since centering breaths were failing me, I decided to just begin my practice. I started moving through my Sun Salutations, establishing a rhythm with my breathing and my movement into the poses. By the time I was through with the standing sequence, and starting on the seated sequence, I had regained my composure. Sure, a few times, especially in forward bends, I could see people watching me through the glass, but that wasn't unexpected. While I view the practice of yoga as a beautiful thing, I know that not everyone shares my appreciation, at least not in the same way I do. I know a lot of gawkers view it as being sexually suggestive, but again, after having done the practice for three years, I was used to some ogling. I tried to brush off the fact that people may have been watching me, but, if I were being completely honest with myself, a few times I saw a tall blond head turned in my direction and it did make me a little more self conscious in my practice. I didn't want to fall out of any of my poses or otherwise move through the practice like a klutz, so I paid extra attention to the poses and how I moved in and out of them.

Just over an hour later, I was at the difficult closing sequence: backbends, shoulder stand, headstand, and a few lotus pose variations. By then, I had forgotten all about any spectators as I tried to put all of my effort into these challenging poses. Once I had gotten through them, I was ready for the last pose - savasana, the corpse pose. It's the pose where you lie on your back and absorb the practice, or as more often than not, recover from the practice. I got up and went to get my eye pillow from my things to rest on my eyes while I lay in the pose and I noticed that Eric was watching me. It wasn't creepy at all. He actually seemed, I don't know how to describe it, impressed? Awestruck maybe? I gave him a smile; he was so busted and he knew it. He smiled back and then walked off to what I assumed were the showers. I tried not to think too much about that as I cleared my mind for relaxation, but relaxation was elusive this practice.