The Travels of a PowerBlock

Houston, 2018

I met my Human in Houston in 2018.

I was a PowerBlock, an adjustable dumbbell that could go all the way up to 50 pounds. Unlike the regular dumbbells at his gym, I wasn’t stuck being one weight for the rest of my life.

I had options.

And I had a pretty straightforward job. The Human already went to the gym regularly, but there were days when he didn’t want to make the drive. That’s where I was supposed to come in.

No drive. No excuse. Just pick me up.

It sounded like a good arrangement. For the next two years, he barely touched me.

I eventually figured out the problem. The Human liked working out. He just liked doing it at the gym. Working out at home was a different activity altogether.

Surely, This Was My Moment

Then 2020 happened. Gyms closed. The Human was home. And I was already there, waiting.

This was exactly what I had been brought home for. Surely, this was my moment.

It wasn’t.

Instead, the Human decided the problem was that his home didn’t contain enough gym. That’s when the engineer in him woke up.

Gym membership. Gas. Driving time. Years of future workouts. He started doing the math. Skip enough gym memberships, save enough drives, keep working out at home long enough, and eventually a home gym would practically pay for itself. Even paying a premium during COVID seemed reasonable when spread across all those future years.

The numbers must have looked convincing, because boxes started arriving. First came a Rogue folding rack, a rather large fellow whose main talent, as far as I could tell, was standing against a wall looking important.

Then came a barbell.

Weight plates.

And resistance bands.

The resistance bands confused me. They weighed almost nothing and somehow still claimed to be exercise equipment. I had been waiting since 2018 to do my job.

Apparently, the Human thought I needed coworkers.

The Family Expands

And the rack, barbell, and plates weren’t the end of it. Somewhere along the way, the Human discovered that I could be expanded beyond 50 pounds.

There was a 50-to-70-pound expansion. That seemed reasonable enough. Then he noticed there was another one.

70 to 90. He had no immediate use for that one. That should have settled it.

It didn’t.

Normally, these expansions shipped free. During COVID, they didn’t. That was enough to get him doing the math again. Buy only one now, and he might have to pay shipping again later. Worse, what if PowerBlock stopped making this model before he ever got around to buying the rest?

The set would never be complete. Apparently, this was a risk the Human could not live with.

So both of my bigger brothers arrived together.

50 to 70.

70 to 90.

The biggest one had arrived well before he was actually needed.

Apparently, Humans like to buy their future accomplishments in advance.

Back to the Gym

Eventually, gyms opened again. I assumed that wouldn’t matter much. After all, the Human now had everything he needed at home. Before long, he was going back to the gym.

The three of us were confused. After all that effort to bring the gym home, the Human discovered that he still preferred going somewhere else to work out. Something about having other Humans around made a difference.

My brothers and I had questions.

What happened to the gym membership savings?

The gas?

The driving time?

The years it would take for all of us to become practically free?

The Human didn’t seem too concerned. I was beginning to understand something about his calculations.

They were very convincing when he was making them.

Apparently, We Were Moving

Houston was home. Then his career needed somewhere else to flourish.

Fort Smith, Arkansas.

So everything got packed up, including me and my brothers, and off we went. A couple of years later, the Human decided it was time to move again.

This time, Salem, Oregon.

More boxes. Another U-Haul. Another long ride. For something designed to be lifted, I was becoming surprisingly well-traveled.

The only heavy lifting happening consistently was the truck hauling us across the country.

A Different Kind of Move

Then the Human decided his career needed a pivot. He wanted to add data science to the collection.

That meant the University of Washington in Seattle.

I found this arrangement interesting. For years, the Human had gone to buildings where he got paid to show up and solve problems. Now he was going to another building where he paid them to give him problems to solve.

He called this an investment.

I’d heard that word before.

There was another problem.

Seattle was expensive, and the Human was moving into something called a studio apartment. I had expected something grander from the name. It was basically one small room trying to be an entire apartment. And there wasn’t enough room for us.

So when the Human packed for Seattle, my brothers and I stayed behind in Salem. He seemed genuinely disappointed about it.

Just until graduation, he said. After that, there would be space again. We’d finally get the attention we deserved.

I had heard this Human make plans before. Still, I believed him.

At Last, Seattle

Almost a year passed. Then one day, the Human came back for us. Into the trunk we went, and this time we were finally headed to Seattle.

I thought the waiting was over. Maybe the studio had changed. Maybe graduation was close. Maybe this was finally the part where the Human made good on those promises.

We arrived. And almost immediately, the Human started taking pictures of us. That was new.

Not workout pictures either.

Product pictures.

Apparently, we had been listed on something called Facebook Marketplace. The Human had decided that maybe another Human could give us the attention we had been waiting for.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

A Lesson in Supply and Demand

There was just one problem. The so-called marketplace in Seattle was crowded with my kind.

The Human had a number in mind for us. The Humans of Seattle had other ideas. Offers came in, but not quite the ones he was hoping for.

That’s when the engineer in him started looking at the problem again. Seattle had plenty of equipment like us for sale. Salem had less.

So after finally making it to Seattle, we went right back into the trunk.

Back to Salem.

I considered asking whether all this driving was included in the original calculation about saving trips to the gym. By then, I knew better than to interfere with engineering.

What Am I Worth?

Salem turned out to be different. Eventually, another Human showed up for us.

My Human had named a price. The new Human offered a hundred dollars less. They talked for a bit and somehow settled exactly in the middle. Then both of them seemed happy.

I found this fascinating. In my world, numbers were much simpler. If the selector pin said 50 pounds, I was 50 pounds.

No opening offer. No counteroffer. No meeting in the middle.

Humans could look at the same thing, start with two different numbers, invent a third one between them, and both walk away feeling good about it.

I preferred the selector pin.

Another Human

And just like that, I was being carried toward another trunk. A new Human. A new home. And, I assumed, a new set of plans for me.

I had seen that look before. The kind Humans get when they’re already picturing what they’re going to do with something they haven’t even taken home yet.

I couldn’t blame him. My Human had once looked at me the same way. Maybe this one really would lift me more. Maybe my brothers and I would finally get the kind of life we had been promised back in Houston.

I hoped so.

But after all these years, I had learned a little about Humans.

Their plans are adjustable too.