Abs Week: The Secret Admirer

The definition didn’t happen overnight. Day after day, week after week, month after month, there she was, grinding out rep after rep. And there I was, watching as surreptitiously as I could, admiring, secretly worshipping the lady with the abs.



For a while she disappeared, and I was lost. Had she gone to another gym? Had she moved away? And then there was that night I couldn’t sleep so I came to the gym as the dawn was breaking, expecting I’d be alone there. But I wasn’t alone. She was there, working her abs. And from then on I was an early bird too. Her own focus and dedication made me a focused and dedicated trainer because if she was going to be there, then so was I. And if I was there, there was no point not going hard. My own body was changing, and it was because of her. I hoped she would be wearing one of the little tops that left her abs exposed, was hurt when she wasn’t.



I would daydream all day and dream all night of the next morning and the body she was developing. I dreamt of seeing those beautiful cuts up close, still glistening with sweat from her early morning exertions, of reaching out to trace the lines with my fingers, feeling the firmness of her magnificent abdominals. And I dreamt of the sweet salty taste as I licked the sweat off and pressed my lips against her hard six-pack.



Then she was no longer alone. We were no longer alone. Now there was a training partner, another woman with abs. So far, so good. But there was also a guy. And he was calling the shots. Serious preparation, serious sessions. His voice irritated me, broke my concentration. Worse still, when I glanced in her direction, he’d be in the way. Of course I was jealous. Of course I wanted to be him. Never more so than when he had her stand and pose in the mirror while he inspected her beautiful body.



Sulking, I stayed away for a few days but I couldn’t stay away for long. And when I came back she was training alone again, but she was training differently. And I was so impressed that I simply could not help myself. As she wrapped her legs around the hanging bag and ground out crunch after crunch she looked so magnificent I stood and stared. And maybe I imagined it but I could have sworn that at the bottom of one of those reps she looked back towards me.



She’s still there every morning when I turn up. Her abs are a work of art now. And I remain a devoted fan. I still haven’t plucked up the courage or found an opportune moment to tell her that, but that day will come. I’ve thought about it again and again. I’ve played out the scene so many times in my head.



She’ll be drenched in sweat and heading to the lockers…