The rules don’t apply to him

It was SO COLD Tuesday morning when John and I got up to go to boxing.  I think the temperature was in the teens.  God awful cold.  But we bundled up (sweatshirts over normal workout clothes and I was wearing ear muffs (not the fuzzy kind – my ears get cold, so I have some that don’t get totally gross when sweat is involved)) and headed out.  We were a couple of minutes early, so we sat in the warm car before attempting the short walk from the car to the gym.  We should have stayed in the car.  Instead of walking into a reasonably warm gym, we walked into more freezing temperatures.  Doug said he had the heat cranked up to 80, but no warm air was coming out, and the thermostat was stuck in the low 40s.  We did our warm-up fully bundled up and didn’t lose the sweatshirts until 20 minutes in.

This morning, not as cold as Tuesday, but still plenty cold (right around freezing), there was a sign on the door: “No classes today. The heat is broken.”  But the door was open and the lights were on, so we went in and found Doug on the weight machines in the freezing cold gym.  So again, we stayed bundled up and warmed up with him and had class anyway.  We mentioned the sign at the end, and it turns out Doug never noticed it.  It wouldn’t have mattered, not to him.  He says he’s going to be there to work out those mornings, every week, and we’re welcome to come work out with him, class or no class.  It’s like we’re his playmates.  I am totally okay with that.