Entrenamiento del jueves
A Thursday Prompt story
© 2021 by Walter Reimer


Prompt: lift



A few heads turned as he walked in, his bulk briefly eclipsing the morning sun that shone through the open door of the gym. When the door closed and he paused briefly to sign in, a few newcomers stared.

Xavier was used to it, both the attention given to his species as well as his physique.

The bull was a xenokeryx, distantly related to giraffes, but where the latter had thin limbs and long necks, he was built more compactly. Broad feet, stout legs and arms, strong paws, and a thick neck to support a head that sported two downward-pointing, tusklike canines and three horns. Two of the horns were located on either side of the muzzle, midway between the nose and eyes; the third was curiously T-shaped and was perched between his ears.

A few of the guys thought that the T-shaped horn was used like handlebars by Xavier’s dates. Like his giraffe cousins, the xenokeryx had a long, supple tongue that could grasp objects.

So yes, there were jokes about that.

Xavier waved to a few of his friends that weren’t otherwise occupied at the various benches and machines and walked into the men’s locker room, emerging several minutes later wearing a pair of red shorts that were almost indecently scanty, even for a gymnasium.

The bull ignored the stares. He was a professional bodybuilder, and this was the gym he normally used when he was home. One wall by the entrance bore framed photographs of him posing and the trophies that he’d won, and the management let him wear what he liked. He was good for business.

The bull did a number of stretches before walking over to a vacant bench and plucking a bar off the rack. Resting it on the mat, he then crossed to the weight racks.

He wasn’t a showoff, and so instead of trying to heft the metal discs one-pawed he used two paws. A few onlookers gaped at him as he set the bar up with two one hundred-kilogram discs, locking them onto the bar before squatting, grasping the bar and standing, bringing the bar up and starting to do bicep curls.

His lips curled back from his canines as his arms flexed, bringing the bar up and down smoothly, almost mechanically, his biceps bulging with the effort. He stopped after ten repetitions and carried the bar to the weight bench. Resting the bar on the brackets, the bull unlocked the weights and started to place two more one hundred-kilo discs on the bar.

Seeing his preparations, a bull (of the bovine variety) and a huge bear set aside what they were doing and walked over. “Need spotters, Xavi?” the bear asked.

Xavier smiled. “Sure, Jorge, thanks. I think I’ll go for five today.”

Jorge and the other fur exchanged looks. “You sure, Xavi?”

“Worth a try. Can you and Jaime spot for me?”

The bull, Jaime, nodded. “We’ve got you, chico.” Once the full four hundred kilos were on the bar, Xavier got on his back and gripped the bar with both paws as Jaime and Jorge took their positions at either end.

Xavier took several deep breaths, his grip tightened, and he pushed, bringing the bar clear of its bracket. He slowly guided it down until the bar barely brushed the short fur of his chest before he propelled it upward, breathing regularly as he brought it down again, and up again.

“Two,” Jorge said.

The third went as easily as the first two, and a small crowd had started to gather.

On the fourth repetition, Xavier’s lips skinned back from his teeth and signs of genuine strain showed in his face, chest, and arm muscles.

“That’s four,” Jorge said.

“You got this, Xavi,” Jaime said.

Strain was making the big xenokeryx shake as he brought the bar down, and his eyes closed as his arms began to shake at the effort of pushing the bar back up.

“You got it, man,” one member of the crowd urged.

“Push, Xavi!” another said.

Jaime kept half an eye on Xavier’s progress, and the other on the xenokeryx’s tufted tail. If he wagged it from side to side, it was a danger signal and it’d be time for him and Jorge to intervene. “Come on, Xavi!” the bull said.

The bar rose, slower and slower, until it stopped at the full reach of Xavier’s arms, the bull locking his elbows as the crowd shouted “Five!” and Jaime and the bear grabbed the ends of the bar and helped Xavier bring the laden bar back onto its brackets.

For a moment, all the xenokeryx did was lie there and breathe, feeling sweat dampen his fur.

Jorge reached down and patted his shoulder. “You done good, man. You okay?”

“Yeah,” Xavier replied, “feels good.”



end