It was hard to get in gear after the long weekend. I didn't want to be late. My exercise class is important to me. As exercise classes go, I consider mine state-of-the-art. Our instructor has her masters in Dance Therapy and our studio overlooks the Pacific Ocean in Malibu, California. What more could a person want?
      The students are a diverse bunch. But our differences don't seem to matter much. Women connect on so many levels that job status and income create few barriers in communication.
      Sometimes after class several of us meet at the local coffee shop. We talk about world events, but not as much as we talk about our personal goals. Right now, Maxine our instructor would like a relationship with a man secure enough to have a relationship with her. Carol wants to make a living selling her painted furniture. Suzanne is trying to survive a messy divorce and Lonni's attempting to break into the greeting card business. As for me, I'm a TV writer who just started turning down shows I don't want to do and writing what I want to write. In our own ways, we are striving to achieve our goals.
      I glanced around the studio while we stretched. Only six of us showed up. Lonni also noticed the shortage and mentioned that a man she and her husband played tennis with over the weekend said he might join the class. Everyone was glad to hear it. A man in the class added extra incentive. At the very least we held in our tummies and stood up straight.

      Max started the routine, gradually increasing the tempo and reminding us to feel the group of muscles we were working. Maxine teaches that exercise at it's best is done from the inside. That's why there are no mirrors in our room. So we couldn't see who she was waving to. Someone was at the door behind us and she was motioning for the person to come in. Lonnie turned to see if it was her friend, but she indicated that it wasn't. By then we were all curious.
      There he was -- a tall, good-looking man somewhere between thirty and forty and very tan. his hair was blonde and a bit thin on top. And, though he was lean, he was pretty muscular. He had a very open attitude. Most men are a bit guarded just entering a room full of women. The singles in the class were immediately dazzled.
      Though it was difficult for him to follow the movements, his willingness was quite impressive. Max suggested that he stand behind me and follow that way. Even when we paraded down the center of the room, he was right behind me doing his best to keep up. What a sport! He was obviously secure about his masculinity. His movements were fairly awkward, but he didn't feel foolish. We supported him like mother hens, praising his every effort.