We got off to a bad start when he addressed me as “young lady.” Even after he learned my name, he sometimes called me young lady. But there was an earnestness about him that I liked, and he never looked bored. And, after registering the terseness and evasiveness with which I responded to the questions he asked me about myself, he stopped trying to draw me out and we got through our thirty-minute sessions without chatter.

Have you ever done burpees?

I had.

Think you can do ten in thirty seconds?

I could.

Well, that was impressive. You’re pretty strong, young lady.

I was also pretty winded. As I was catching my breath I remembered what my friend had said, about her fear that being in such good physical shape would only make her death throes more agonizing. It sank in then, like a spear. No hope, death near, the mind wanting only release, and the body, with a mind of its own, desperately struggling to stay alive, the weakening heart with every beat panting no, no, no.

How terrible. How cruel. How absurd.

Is something wrong? asked the trainer.

I shook my head, but then immediately blurted that a friend of mine was dying.

I’m sorry, he said. Is there anything I can do? Said it reflexively, as people always do, this formula that nobody really wants to hear, that comforts nobody. But it was not his fault that our language has been hollowed out, coarsened, and bled dry, leaving us always stupid and tongue-tied before emotion. A high school teacher once made us read Henry James’s famous letter to his grief-stricken friend Grace Norton, held up since its publication as a sublime example of sympathy and understanding. Even he begins by saying, “I hardly know what to say.”

Let’s sit down, my trainer said. And we did, we sat down together on one of the thick padded exercise mats on the floor.

I wish I could give you a hug, he said. But we’re not allowed to touch clients anymore. The manager is afraid of a lawsuit or whatever. It’s a problem, because it can be hard to make corrections and explain things like proper alignment with just words. And touch is so important.

My face was in my towel now. My shoulders were jerking.

So you’ll just have to imagine it, he said. Imagine my arms around you right now in a big warm hug. His voice cracked. I’m sorry, he said. Ever since I was a kid, I can’t not cry when I see someone else crying.

That’s because you’re still a kid, I said without speaking.

After we had each collected ourselves he said, It’s so good that you’re working out. Exercise is the best medicine for stress. And please know that I’m always here for you.