I had just finished my 24Lift class at the gym. I was sweating but feeling energetic as I stepped through the glass doors from the classroom to the elliptical machines and stationary bikes. But then I looked up for the first time in an hour at the bank of TVs that hang above the exercisers. Everyone of them read:

I leaped straight up in the air, fist raised, and hollered like I’d won the lottery. Although the exercise bots kept pumping on their machines as they stared silently up at the screens, the people at the front desk looked at me with puzzled looks. I pulled the towel up to the side of my face with embarrassment. “Sorry, I’m a bit excited,” I said, realizing I probably shouldn’t be yelling in the gym.

“Why?” they asked. “What happened?”

That’s when I realized they couldn’t see the TVs from their station. I pointed at the screens. “We have a new president. It’s Obama!”

The meaty Hispanic guy raised his thick eyebrows and his mouth broke open with jubilation. “He won?”

“Yeah, he won!”

We high-fived and jumped up and down as we hollered together.

I tossed my towel in the bin by the door and nearly flew down the stairs into the garage. On the way, I told people, “We have a new president!” “Who is it?” “Barack!” I couldn’t stop howling with joy, my voice echoing even in the garage. Barack! Barack!

Barack!