So this morning I was scrolling through some DIY forums when I spotted hardwood sports flooring mentioned for like the fifth time this week. Figured it was a sign – my basement gym area desperately needed an upgrade from those worn-out foam tiles. Grabbed my coffee and decided today’s the day to tackle this hardwood sports flooring project for my New Jersey home gym setup.
First step: measured the dang space. Pulled out my crusty tape measure that kept retracting too fast, nearly took my finger off twice. Squinted at the numbers – 15 by 20 feet? Wait, was that from the edge of the baseboard or the wall itself? Measured three more times cursing under my breath, finally settled on 14.5 x 19.5 actual working space.
Hopped online hunting for maple sports flooring. Every site showed “NJ warehouse stock!” but actually shipping from Ohio or someplace. Called three suppliers pretending to be some big-shot contractor – “Yeah we need that maple court plank STAT, professional job!” – finally got a guy in Edison who actually had planks stacked locally. Drove an hour in my pickup truck only to find the planks were slightly warped. Argued with warehouse manager Joe who claimed “they settle during install!” Ended up checking every single plank under the warehouse fluorescent lights while Joe sighed dramatically.
Got home sweating buckets, unloaded two tons of planks into garage. Realized I forgot the damn underlayment. Back to Home Depot feeling like an idiot. Wrestled with that blue foam roll in the parking lot while wind tried turning it into a parachute. Traffic on Route 1 was murder.
Started prepping the concrete slab basement floor:
- Scrubbed off mysterious sticky patches with wire brush
- Mixed leveling compound that hardened WAY faster than the box promised
- Laid that cursed foam underlayment that kept curling up at corners
Unboxed first planks smelling that sweet maple scent. Got distracted reading tongue-and-groove instructions for ten minutes. Finally positioned the starter row flush against the wall using 1/4-inch spacers. Hammered the mallet like a madman – THUNK THUNK THUNK – until my elbow screamed. Sawdust already getting everywhere, making me sneeze.
Halfway through third row, disaster struck. The mallet slipped and cracked the tongue clean off a plank. Frantically dug through piles of planks hunting for replacement while my knees screamed from crawling. Cut replacement piece with circular saw – promptly measured wrong and ruined two more planks. My garage looked like a lumberyard massacre.
By hour six, the rows started wandering like a drunk. Had to rip out three planks using pry bar, splintering the edges. Applied wood glue like toothpaste along the tongues, clenching teeth while hammering stubborn pieces. Sweat poured into my eyes as I contorted like a yogi near the back wall.
Reached the final row around midnight. Saw blades screeched cutting planks width-wise. Had to muscle the last pieces into gap with crowbar – CRACK – left a nasty dent in the maple. Stood up groaning, knees popping like popcorn. Applied two coats of finish using roller that shed hairs. Accidentally locked the cat inside overnight – found paw prints fossilized in the final coat next morning.
End result? Shiny court lines catch the garage light nicely, though that dent still taunts me. Knees haven’t forgiven me three days later. Would I do it again? Let’s just say next time I’ll triple-check those plank deliveries and invest in better knee pads. Jersey basements fight dirty, but seeing that smooth maple surface under those gym weights? Almost worth the agony.
