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" I wake up every Tuesday and Thursday at 5:15 a.m. so I can get to Morning Muscles by 6. On the most recent class day it had snowed, again, so I tugged my coat over my pajamas and ducked outside in the dark to shovel my way to the car before wading up the driveway to the road to see if the snow was too deep for driving. The road had been plowed. Good thing, because I hate to miss my exercise class. My husband looked up from his coffee when I came back inside and said, &amp;quot;You know, you could just shovel the driveway\u2014that would get your heart rate up.&amp;quot; True, but that&amp;#039;s not the only reason I join about 20 women for our regular fitness class, which meets in the art center lobby. (We don&amp;#039;t have a rec center in our small Alaska town, so we make do.) Morning Muscles is about a different kind of heart health. The women are mostly between the ages of 30 and 65, although sometimes a few teenage daughters join us, and we are all shapes and sizes. The class is led by a diminutive physical therapist, Dr. Marnie Hartman, who is in her 30s but looks about 25, and reminds me of a cross between the gymnast Cathy Rigby and Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz. Another reason I&amp;#039;m here is that Marnie gave me the courage to get back on my bike after a terrible cycling accident seven years ago. I was run over by a truck literally. The recovery was long and hard, but thanks to Marnie, I am well now. When I graduated out of our regular physical therapy appointments, I wasn&amp;#039;t ready to leave her behind. I&amp;#039;d grown accustomed to having her push me, and to the positive results of the exercises. I wasn&amp;#039;t sure I could maintain the regimen on my own. I also found a new kind of healing in the company of these cheerful women that was as good for my soul as for my body. Each of us brings a different set of physical issues to the class. Some want to lose weight, others to keep their arms supple as they age. Still others, like me, are recovering from illness or injury. We all begin where we are able, and we trust the others to be supportive. For me, and I bet for them, Morning Muscles has become a healthier version of the coffee klatch. There&amp;#039;s that\u2014and besides, it&amp;#039;s a lot of fun. If you could have seen us rolling off our exercise balls the other day, it would have made you feel just as good as we do. And to be honest, we actually did a pretty good job of following Marnie&amp;#039;s patient instructions, once we quit giggling and regained some muscle control. I was still a little sore from Rita&amp;#039;s exercise class a few weeks earlier when Marnie was away on vacation and Rita filled in for her. Rita is new in town. She is a Latin dance instructor and river rafting guide. She has blue streaks in her curly black hair and a bright smile. A flashing peace sign dangles from her neck and her bracelets jingle when she moves, which is all the time. She began her Morning Muscles workout with the Mexican Jumping Bean Dance. (Yes, it looks like it sounds, only with a lot more wiggle.) We were too busy trying to follow energetic Rita to chat. Rita has the intentionally happy vibe of a combat veteran, which is what she is. She came here to Alaska seeking solitude after a tour of duty in Afghanistan. When she gets low, she runs for miles by herself on mountain trails. But that morning Rita was all smiles as she hipped and hopped us through the class that was sort of like dancing, but mostly like a girly version of boot camp. We did a lot of push-ups and, as one of the schoolteachers in the class said, so many reps with 5-pound arm weights that we&amp;#039;d all be drinking coffee from a straw because we wouldn&amp;#039;t be able to lift a cup. When class was over, we collapsed in sweaty heaps on our mats, hearts revved up higher than they had been in a long time. Before any of us could catch our breath to thank her, Rita thanked us for showing up. She said, &amp;quot;Now I&amp;#039;ll know who you are when I see you at the grocery store.&amp;quot; That&amp;#039;s what I love about smalltown life. In another place I might never have met anyone like Rita. Even in this one we might not have crossed paths if we both hadn&amp;#039;t needed to be at Morning Muscles. I know she has suffered more than I ever will\u2014yet she was awake at 6 on a dark, stormy morning, dancing and smiling and urging us to join her. By doing so, she made us stronger, and I hope we eased her pain and offered her some sense of community. &amp;quot;It makes you happy, doesn&amp;#039;t it?&amp;quot; she said, as we danced around the room. Indeed it does. And right now, as the snow turns to rain, I&amp;#039;m looking forward to summer days, when the sun rises before Morning Muscles begins. Then, I won&amp;#039;t have to shovel out my car. On those mild mornings, Marnie trots us down to the dock, where we lay out our mats in a circle on the weathered planks. Without Rita&amp;#039;s salsa music or Marnie&amp;#039;s usual Indigo Girls\u2013James Taylor\u2013Jack Johnson soundtrack, it is much quieter. All we&amp;#039;ll hear are the waves meeting the shore, a few scolding terns and creaking dock floats. The workout will begin with silent stretching, but during the lunges across the old dock, the whispering will start. Anne Marie will remind Nancy to bring cookies for the library bake sale. Beth will hear her and ask, &amp;quot;Was that you who called to ask me to bring cookies?&amp;quot; Kim will overhear them and volunteer to bake too, and from across the dock, Debra will ask, &amp;quot;Does it have to be cookies? Can we bring a fruit tray instead?&amp;quot; But then Marnie will lead us from lunges to crunches and all talking will cease. At 7, we will pause for a sun salutation to the real morning sun, and Marnie will dismiss us with a &amp;quot;Happy Tuesday,&amp;quot; just like she always does. We&amp;#039;ll walk back up the hill talking about all kinds of things, and nothing special, prepared both physically and emotionally for a day at the office or the clinic, tending children at the daycare, waitressing or writing a few good words. Dreaming about that class now makes me realize how much I have come to depend on Morning Muscles. I know the routines well enough to exercise on my own\u2014except for Rita&amp;#039;s cha-cha classes\u2014but I&amp;#039;ll keep rising early in all weather to spend an hour twice a week in the company of women who help me feel good both inside and out. Heather Lende is a contributing editor to Woman&amp;#039;s Day. Her most recent book is Take Good Care of the Garden and the Dogs. She lives in Haines, AK. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
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