It had been a year since I had started conditioning myself with a personal trainer. He was young, fresh skinned, attractive and in great shape; I am sure he had no trouble with the ladies.

Moreso, he possessed a deep joy about him, a sincerely uplifting personality and a passion for his clients. He was very likeable. 

Many Capsuleers I know still find it odd that I workout. With current technologies why not just have your next clone pre-buffed? I’ve had this rant before, about pre-made clones, whether it’s having them with tattoos already inked, muscles already developed, scars or wrinkles removed, etc, and for me, it only propogates laziness.

For all any of us knows, our next clone could be our last. If it ever came to that, how would you take care of yourself then? Would you even remember what to do?

I hate being reliant on things beyond my control. This trainer was an exception. In the year I had been training with him, my body fat percentage had been reduced to 15%, yet I had maintained my current weight of 220 lbs. That meant in twelve months I had converted 35 lbs of fat into 35 lbs of muscle. That felt good, and not out of pride or vanity, but out of a well earned sense of accomplishment.

“So, let’s say another 2% bodyfat reduction in the next three months?” Seo, my trainer, asked. I nodded in agreement.

“Sounds good. Guess that means core and cardio training, my favourites.” I said with blatant sarcasm. We both laughed.

“We’re also going to have to shake up your diet, keep your body guessing. No more eating the same food every day of every week.” Seo said. 

I had always been one to enjoy a good meal, but I guess being a military man I was accustomed to eating as a routine to fuel the body. I pretty much did eat the same food, six meals per day, and was satisfied with that. Food was food after all.

“Yeah, alright. Whatever it takes.” I said.

“And I’m impressed you haven’t cheated on any of your clones. You didn’t have to give me access to your medical bay, I trust you, but it’s appreciated.” Seo smiled.

“Trust is an overrated commodity.” I replied, a slight smirk on my face.

We had met that evening at our regular time, in our regular recreational facility, and I recognized many of the faces in the gym. My eyes came to rest on a large man, easily a foot taller than me, and about 50 lbs of muscle heavier. He had an air of arrogance and menace around him, and it made me pause momentarily, wondering at him. Seo picked up on this.

“Yeah,” Seo began, shaking his head. “I was looking at him the other day, obviously he’s taking illegal metabolic enhancers, which is against club policy. He caught me glancing his way and threatened me, told me if he caught me looking his way again that it wouldn’t end well for me.”

My eyebrow raised at Seo, then I returned my attention to the behemoth of a man. His sheer size and definition rang true of illegal enhancements. It could also explain the short fuse he had exhibited. I noticed he couldn’t straighten his arms either. Combined with the negative effects of muscle injectors, he would have weak joints and weak ligaments. 

I always scoffed at these “monkeys”, as I liked to call them; you know the “spray-on” tanned, knuckle dragging gorillas over at the heavy free weights? They usually had poor form, took shortcuts, cheated where they could, were the loudest people in the gym, and made sure everyone appreciated their appearance. They were often arrogant, would look down on everyone else, and yet all of it was compensation for low self-esteem, or perhaps just narcissim. Personally, I just liked to assumed they had abnormally small penises.

Seo was still talking. “The situation doesn’t really make me afraid, but it does leave me a little concerned’ I’m not really a fighter.” 

“Why not just have him banned from the club?” I asked.

“He’s served jail time in all four Empires. I think he’s the kind of guy that might cause trouble regardless.” Seo retorted.

“All that tells me is that he was stupid enough to get caught repeatedly.” I said, both of us laughing again. “Seriously though, you want that I should have a talk with him?” I offered.

Seo shook his head in the negative. “Thanks, but no. I figure it’ll blow over eventually. In the meantime, I just avoid him as much as possible.” I nodded my understanding. “So, what do you want to work on today?” Seo asked, suddenly quite chipper.

I looked over at the monkey again. He was near the pull up bar. “Maybe warm up with some pull-ups?” I suggested. Seo wasn’t stupid. He knew exactly what I was up to, yet there was a small twinkle in his eye.

“Yeah, alright.” he agreed.

We headed over towards the pull up bars, Seo looking at the floor mostly, me staring straight at the monkey. I bore my gaze into the man, willing him to notice me. He was far too busy admiring his own phyique to pay heed to me in the slightest.

I approached him in a friendly manner. “Mind if I work in with you?” I asked in my most friendly voice. It was a common practice during peak hours to share equipment amongst members, otherwise you could spend a long while waiting for machines to free up, your heart rate lowering during the interim. Part of working out was keeping your heart rate elevated, and most people were good enough to simply let you work inbetween sets with them.

“Yeah, I do.” the monkey snarled. “I’ll be using the bars for a while.” he said, then adding in a way that almost seemed to spit on me, “Sorry.” He threw a look at Seo, probably hoping to entice him into a scene, and others, hearing the monkey’s bellowing hostility, had paused their exercising to turn and see what the commotion was. In the meantime, a Gallente techno beat continued to play at 140 bpm through the facility’s speaker system.

“I could just work inbetween your sets.” I offered, trying to maintain my friendliness. 

“You deaf? I said piss off.” the monkey said. What he said really didn’t matter to me. Often times, the words people used were lost on me. I was a practitioner of what we called in the military, Spatial Awareness. It was a coined phrase that basically encapsulated the practice of observing body language, vocal volume, scents, surroundings, everything going on beyond the obvious in any given situation. It had saved my life many times, given me advantages where there seemed to be none, and was one of the things I was most thankful for from my military training.

In this instance, I had just been told to piss off. Like I said, words didn’t bother me much. What did raise red flags in my subconscious, however, was what the monkey was saying behind the words. 

His rear foot was pivoting, the weight moving towards his toes; his hips were rotating, centering to face me; and I could see his chest and shoulder muscles beginning to flex, a clear indication of what was coming next even though I was no longer looking the man in the face. Within the next 1 – 2 seconds, he was going to either shove me or punch me. I wouldn’t take kindly to either so reacted as I had been trained to:

The best defence is a good offence.

It’s hard to explain in some ways, this concept of spatial awareness. In many situations, it can help you to diffuse potentially hostile situations before they become such. In this scenario, it helped me to defend myself by attacking; a concept many have a strong disagreement with.

I bent my knees, dropping my weight to my center of gravity, and lunged forward in a shoulder first dive. My shoulders connected just above the monkey’s kneecaps, as intended, and with increasing forward momentum, I grabbed behind his ankles with both of my hands.

The impact of my upper body, driven by the mass and power of my body, combined with my hands neutralizing any back stepping mobility, caused his knees to snap backwards, his body toppling in an accelerated manner.

The strict control my shoulders and hands gave me over his lower body also dictated that he wouldn’t be twisting or turning during his fall.

The back of his head cracked loudly against the carpet covered cement floor, but I was already moving forward, using my continued inertia to my advantage, and dropped my knee on his groin.

He was fortunate this was a standard 1G station. If gravity had been set any higher, he wouldn’t be a man any longer. As it was, the monkey had one hand cupped around his balls, the other covering his bleeding skull. He didn’t swear, he didn’t retaliate; he simply cried and whimpered like the little bitch I had suspected him to be.

Seo grabbed me by my elbow, quickly escorting me away. Once back in his office, I was fully prepared for his reprimand and possibly a club suspension.

“Shit dude! That was awesome! Fuck!” he screamed in excitement, pacing back and forth. He was shaking, sympathetic adrenaline rushing through his system at what he had just witnessed.

I shrugged it off. “He’s an asshat.” I said flatly.

Seo continued pacing. “Ok, you weren’t here today, and you need to go. I don’t want to lose a client. Someone’s bound to have called the local authorities by now, and I don’t want to see you get in any trouble.”

I was a little miffed that I was going to miss my workout, but Seo was right; more trouble was the last thing I needed in my life right then.

I stood. “Same time next week then?” I asked. We both laughed.

As I left his office, I could still hear him muttering to himself. “That was crazy! Fuck!” I smirked to myself.

I gathered my bags from the change room, and left the club, heading back towards Freeform’s Dal Office.