Bad Smell Karma
First and foremost, LT rocks for his stellar play that has pushed our fantasy football team above and beyond the call of duty. Okay fine, and also for that whole breaking Shaun Alexander's record thing. LT restores my faith in pro athletes. If I worked at the NFL I would tote his picture along and flash it every time a player got arrested for drunk driving, murder, assaulting a police officer.
Anyway there's no appropriate segue, but I now have bad fart smelling karma.
It all stems from a text message Steve sent me from the airport last week. He asked me if I knew who Becky Hammon was and I replied that unfortunately, I still had some residual basketball knowledge left from my time at the WNBA league office. (It would be nice if you could climb into your own brain and scrub useless crap out but then what would be left.) He said that he'd conversed with her at the airport for 15 minutes or so, but thinks he drove her away with a fart because all of a sudden she "had to catch a plane." Being the good friend that I am, I laughed my ass off. A lot. If there's anything funnier than farting in front of a stranger, it's cutting a horrible one loose in front of a stranger who's kind of famous (Chill people, I said "kind of.")
So I was on the treadmill at the gym yesterday and an older gentleman next to me farted. The smell was overpowering, even if one hadn't been sprinting for ten minutes and out of breath because she lacks endurance. I tried to stay the course and keep running, so I wouldn't have to start my workout over at a different time. But his second one almost knocked me off the treadmill. I gave up and ran out of there, which actually served no purpose because I left my cell phone behind and had to immerse myself in the smell again to retrieve it.
After doing some sit-ups, I went into the Nautilus room and got on the anal pron machine. Yes, I'm sure it has an official name but you get on your hands and knees, grip something and grunt until your ass hurts. Thus, the anal pron machine. I looked up in between sets, right into the ass of the same older man from the cardio room. He was now in the machine next to me. I held my breath, finished my leg lifts and ran to twisty side-to-side machine. Except we were apparently on some weird parallel wavelength because at the same time, he sat down at the ab machine, with his ass to me once again. Keep in mind there are like 50 different machines in this room. So this time, after working out on the machine, instead of moving to the other ab machine like I was planning, I sat there and waited to see where he was going. He sat down at the leg press, which was across from the machine I was going to next, and this time I would have been sitting five feet from his open legs, directly in the line of fire. I went back to the cardio room. Luckily, while I was back on the treadmill again I saw him leave the gym.
By the way, the "Kids Say The Darndest Things" stage has officially begun. A heavyset man with grey hair and a red jacket walked by Geo at the gym and one of our three-year-olds pointed and cried out "Santa Claus!!!!!!!!" Geo was mortified but I couldn't stop laughing when he told me about it later.
Showing posts with label gym. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gym. Show all posts
December 11, 2006
September 15, 2006
At The Gym Some More
At The Gym Some More
(i.e. More "Thoughts On The Treadmill" and then some.)
Inner Monologue on the Treadmill:
This treadmill isn't so bad, it has a good view of the television. Unless of course someone takes the treadmill right in front of-- and there it is. Oh well, I have my iPod for a reason. And this chick does have a really nice ass. They're like two cantaloupes hanging out next to each other. I love cantaloupes, especially that Filipino melon drink. Wow, her ass really does look like two cantaloupes. I should probably stop staring in case she turns around. Oh, what do I care. She blocked Sportscenter. The least she could do is let me stare at her ass until I'm finished on this Instrument of Hell. I like how it seems like I'm jammin' to some hip-hop song but really it's "I'm Blue" by Eiffel 65. If they only knew. Hey there's my fake Gym Boyfriend walking in. And he's not wearing a hat this time, oh good. I never get to see his face. He needs to lose the shell necklace though. Those are awful. Why do men wear those. It's not cute. How many minutes have I been on this thing, it must be at least 20... 5. Five??? Five freaking minutes??? This sucks. I hate the gym.
Inner Monologue at the "Body Sculpting" Class:
I didn't bring my very own what are those called... Yoga mat. Speaking of which, how does yoga even help tone anything, don't you just lay on a mat and breathe for awhile? Like those overweight movie stars that say they lost 60 lbs due to yoga. Rooooiiiiiiiighht. Hey, focus, focus! I don't have a mat. Okay they have ones you can borrow, eeew, let's not think about how many dirty people have sweated all over this thing after a long day at work. It's not like YOU just took a bath. You dirtball. Okay focus, we're about to begin "Body Sculpting." What are they going to sculpt me with anyway, a chisel? HA HA HA! Damn that joke was so stupid and yet I cracked myself up. Now people are looking at me, they think I'm "The Crazy Girl At The Gym." So what bitches, turn back around and keep watching yourself in the mirror and lifting weights. Do I have to do everything around here.
Well, that wasn't so bad. I kind of jammed through the first half. WOO-HOO what's next! I rock, I rock... oh fuck. The instructor wants us to grab the "Swedish Balls." Oh please let that mean some hot Stefan Edberg-y guy is standing around here naked. Or that someone just got take-out from IKEA. Please don't let it be that big bouncy ball of torture. Dammit, yes there it is. I hate these things. Okay for the first exercise we're going to balance on top of the ball and push our legs to the ceiling with our hips. What??? Why don't we start with something easier, like sitting on the ball and clapping our hands or something. Fuck. Five bucks say I fall off my ball first. Yes, I win. Another five bucks says I'm the only one in this class of smarmy people that does. Yes, I win again. I hate the gym.
Inner Monologue on the Nautilus Machines:
Let's start with my favorite machine, just because it gives me time to think about which one I'll use next. Remember, low weights high reps. That will tone me up without making me all bulgy. Like that woman. Oooh look, her and her friends are eyeballing how much weight I'm using. Hey! 30 lbs is respectable, low weights high reps you bitches. Then I won't look like you, all fucking Mrs. Schwarzeneggers. No wait, that's Maria Shriver and she's girly. Well, you know what I mean, you bulgy muscular freaks. Keep walking. Yeah, that's right, I'm straight. And what!!! Straight people go to the gym too you know. Damn, they left. Now what am I going to look at. Well lookee-here who just sat down at the pull-y thing in front of me. It's my hot fake Gym Boyfriend. Hoo-waaah, that is one nice body. Look at those arms. Perfection. Look at that back, beautiful. Look at... Oh no. Dammit, I knew it. His face is all messed up. Well there it is, proof that there is no God, or if there is one he's really mean. No benevolent God would put a face like that on a body like that. It's just cruel. Oh good, my reps are over. Time for a new machine.
Hey it's Useless Gym Girl! I'm so happy! Let's see, okay her boyfriend is telling her where he's going to be and what he's going to be doing. Will she be okay by herself? Will she? Will she? Yes! Apparently she will. And now she's going over to the knee side to side machine and putting it at the lowest weight. Side to side four times... wait where are you going? Must not have liked that machine, going to the butterfly one. Lowest weight... four times. Wait, she's getting up again. What's going on here. Oh my Lord she's going to use every single machine in here at the lowest weight four times and then leave. She really does live up to her name. She didn't touch the anal pron machine though. I don't blame her. Geo makes fun but I don't use the anal pron machine unless he's around. Someone might poke me. "No one will poke you Riss," Geo says. Yes, they just might. Because I'm on my hands and knees with my ass in the air and when I see people do that I feel like poking them. "If someone pokes you it will be me." Well then that's why I need you in front of me to make sure people don't poke me, and to make sure you don't poke me either.
Alrighty then, last machine. Okay I need to take my mind off how boring this is. So what does this thing do? Ahh, I am working out my trapezius and my rhomboids. Those lazy rhomboids! Think they can just sit around eating bon-bons on the couch and watching "Montel" all day. You have to stay on top of them or they don't do their jobs. And that trapezius, once I caught him drinking milk out of the gallon container just so he wouldn't have to wash a cup. Take this you lazy ass punk! And this! And this! And this! Okay, high reps suck. I hate the gym.
(i.e. More "Thoughts On The Treadmill" and then some.)
Inner Monologue on the Treadmill:
This treadmill isn't so bad, it has a good view of the television. Unless of course someone takes the treadmill right in front of-- and there it is. Oh well, I have my iPod for a reason. And this chick does have a really nice ass. They're like two cantaloupes hanging out next to each other. I love cantaloupes, especially that Filipino melon drink. Wow, her ass really does look like two cantaloupes. I should probably stop staring in case she turns around. Oh, what do I care. She blocked Sportscenter. The least she could do is let me stare at her ass until I'm finished on this Instrument of Hell. I like how it seems like I'm jammin' to some hip-hop song but really it's "I'm Blue" by Eiffel 65. If they only knew. Hey there's my fake Gym Boyfriend walking in. And he's not wearing a hat this time, oh good. I never get to see his face. He needs to lose the shell necklace though. Those are awful. Why do men wear those. It's not cute. How many minutes have I been on this thing, it must be at least 20... 5. Five??? Five freaking minutes??? This sucks. I hate the gym.
Inner Monologue at the "Body Sculpting" Class:
I didn't bring my very own what are those called... Yoga mat. Speaking of which, how does yoga even help tone anything, don't you just lay on a mat and breathe for awhile? Like those overweight movie stars that say they lost 60 lbs due to yoga. Rooooiiiiiiiighht. Hey, focus, focus! I don't have a mat. Okay they have ones you can borrow, eeew, let's not think about how many dirty people have sweated all over this thing after a long day at work. It's not like YOU just took a bath. You dirtball. Okay focus, we're about to begin "Body Sculpting." What are they going to sculpt me with anyway, a chisel? HA HA HA! Damn that joke was so stupid and yet I cracked myself up. Now people are looking at me, they think I'm "The Crazy Girl At The Gym." So what bitches, turn back around and keep watching yourself in the mirror and lifting weights. Do I have to do everything around here.
Well, that wasn't so bad. I kind of jammed through the first half. WOO-HOO what's next! I rock, I rock... oh fuck. The instructor wants us to grab the "Swedish Balls." Oh please let that mean some hot Stefan Edberg-y guy is standing around here naked. Or that someone just got take-out from IKEA. Please don't let it be that big bouncy ball of torture. Dammit, yes there it is. I hate these things. Okay for the first exercise we're going to balance on top of the ball and push our legs to the ceiling with our hips. What??? Why don't we start with something easier, like sitting on the ball and clapping our hands or something. Fuck. Five bucks say I fall off my ball first. Yes, I win. Another five bucks says I'm the only one in this class of smarmy people that does. Yes, I win again. I hate the gym.
Inner Monologue on the Nautilus Machines:
Let's start with my favorite machine, just because it gives me time to think about which one I'll use next. Remember, low weights high reps. That will tone me up without making me all bulgy. Like that woman. Oooh look, her and her friends are eyeballing how much weight I'm using. Hey! 30 lbs is respectable, low weights high reps you bitches. Then I won't look like you, all fucking Mrs. Schwarzeneggers. No wait, that's Maria Shriver and she's girly. Well, you know what I mean, you bulgy muscular freaks. Keep walking. Yeah, that's right, I'm straight. And what!!! Straight people go to the gym too you know. Damn, they left. Now what am I going to look at. Well lookee-here who just sat down at the pull-y thing in front of me. It's my hot fake Gym Boyfriend. Hoo-waaah, that is one nice body. Look at those arms. Perfection. Look at that back, beautiful. Look at... Oh no. Dammit, I knew it. His face is all messed up. Well there it is, proof that there is no God, or if there is one he's really mean. No benevolent God would put a face like that on a body like that. It's just cruel. Oh good, my reps are over. Time for a new machine.
Hey it's Useless Gym Girl! I'm so happy! Let's see, okay her boyfriend is telling her where he's going to be and what he's going to be doing. Will she be okay by herself? Will she? Will she? Yes! Apparently she will. And now she's going over to the knee side to side machine and putting it at the lowest weight. Side to side four times... wait where are you going? Must not have liked that machine, going to the butterfly one. Lowest weight... four times. Wait, she's getting up again. What's going on here. Oh my Lord she's going to use every single machine in here at the lowest weight four times and then leave. She really does live up to her name. She didn't touch the anal pron machine though. I don't blame her. Geo makes fun but I don't use the anal pron machine unless he's around. Someone might poke me. "No one will poke you Riss," Geo says. Yes, they just might. Because I'm on my hands and knees with my ass in the air and when I see people do that I feel like poking them. "If someone pokes you it will be me." Well then that's why I need you in front of me to make sure people don't poke me, and to make sure you don't poke me either.
Alrighty then, last machine. Okay I need to take my mind off how boring this is. So what does this thing do? Ahh, I am working out my trapezius and my rhomboids. Those lazy rhomboids! Think they can just sit around eating bon-bons on the couch and watching "Montel" all day. You have to stay on top of them or they don't do their jobs. And that trapezius, once I caught him drinking milk out of the gallon container just so he wouldn't have to wash a cup. Take this you lazy ass punk! And this! And this! And this! Okay, high reps suck. I hate the gym.
July 16, 2006
Inner Monologue On The Treadmill
Inner Monologue On The Treadmill
The following is an inexact transcript of the silent conversation I had with myself while on the treadmill this morning:
How do you work this thing again. Oh yeah, put the round magnet on that round magnet thing and hit start. Yes, it's moving. Let's crank this baby up a notch. Okay we're strolling, we're strolling. Let's get some good strolling music on. Here's some "Crazy" by Gnarls Barkley. Good strolling song but Leah hates this song. Why does she hate this song? It has a good beat. Oh well. She's not here. What kind of name is Gnarls Barkley anyway, it's like naming yourself Bennis Rodman. Or Jakeem Olajuwon. Stupid. Hey that guy in the blue shorts looks like Brian Austen Green. That's what we'll call him then, Brian Austen Green. Hey Brian. How are you doing today Brian. Remember me from high school? You keep walking around the gym but you're not sweating or anything. Get on a treadmill you lazy bastard. That's why you're stuck doing stupid movies like Domino. Hey where are you going? I'm sorry I was mean. No I'm not. Lame ass Brian Austen Green.
The song's over. If you're alone and you need a friend... crap it's "Boom Boom Boom Boom." I can't stroll to this. I'm going to have to change the song or start strut sashaying. Okay, I'll strut sashay. If someone's behind me they're probably laughing because I look so stupid doing this. "Boom boom boom boom I want you in my room, let's spend the night together, together in my room." Dang. This girl just met the guy and she's already taking him back to her place. Isn't she worried he might be some crazy serial killer. Foolish girl. She thinks she's taking him back to her place to bump uglies but really he's going to chop her up and take her back to his place in a cooler. Also, there's AIDS. What if he has AIDS? People these days.
Hey there's Useless Gym Girl. What does her shirt say... "Your boyfriend thinks I'm hot." Yeah he does. Especially when he's peeing and it burns. Then he thinks "Damn, that bitch was hot." I wonder what workout she's going to do in canvas daisy dukes. Also, isn't that material highly conducive to chafing? Useless Gym Girl is too long of a name though. And UGG is unpleasant to say. We'll call her "Houseplant." That's what DJ Metronome calls the hot girl at his bar who can't bartend. Houseplant. Hahahaha holy fuck that's funny as hell. That guy is funny.
Alright next song, next song. Oh crap it's "Pump It." That means I have to sprint. We'll crank it up to... oh shit, too fast, too fast. Who do you think you are, Jackie Joyner Kersee. We're running, we're running. Damn this is a long song. How many seconds have passed. 13. 13 fucking seconds?? That's it?? Oh my God. This is the longest song in the history of the fucking world. Stupid Black Eyed Peas. Stupid Black Eyed Peas and their stupid long ass songs. Okay how many seconds has it been now. 28?? Fuck fuck fuck. You can do this. Don't die. Wow my heartbeat is going awfully fast. Is that safe? Or am I going to be like those people that snort coke for the first time and then die because their heart beats too fast. Like Regina Morrow in that Sweet Valley High book. That was so sad. She was so nice and smart and even had a modeling career going for her. And then what happens. She snorts coke at a party because her slut boyfriend Bruce Patman made out with slutty ass Amy Whats-Her-Face.
Okay we're going to have to go back to strut sashaying. I'm tired. Hey that guy is cute. Eeew, no he's not. I wonder if Geo is going to walk by anytime soon. He's hot.
*45 minutes later*
Okay 5 more minutes. 5 more minutes. Also, suck in your gut for the last 5 minutes. Work out those abs. What abs? Okay work towards those abs. Suck it in beeyatch!! Okay okay. I'm sucking, I'm sucking. Wait, that didn't come out right. How weird that these seconds are ticking by slower than normal seconds. The Normal Second to Treadmill Second ratio is like 3:1. Freaking treadmill time. Almost done. I wonder what Geo is doing. He's probably doing that crazy ab thing where he hangs on the bar and lifts his legs up. I should do that. Yeah right. I should go have a burrito is what I should fricken do. Or maybe some pizza. Yum. Or maybe some burritos and a pizza. That works. Okay we're finished. Thank God. And you're still alive. Remember to hang out for a moment on the treadmill so you don't get vertigo when you step off. I said remember to-- never mind.
The following is an inexact transcript of the silent conversation I had with myself while on the treadmill this morning:
How do you work this thing again. Oh yeah, put the round magnet on that round magnet thing and hit start. Yes, it's moving. Let's crank this baby up a notch. Okay we're strolling, we're strolling. Let's get some good strolling music on. Here's some "Crazy" by Gnarls Barkley. Good strolling song but Leah hates this song. Why does she hate this song? It has a good beat. Oh well. She's not here. What kind of name is Gnarls Barkley anyway, it's like naming yourself Bennis Rodman. Or Jakeem Olajuwon. Stupid. Hey that guy in the blue shorts looks like Brian Austen Green. That's what we'll call him then, Brian Austen Green. Hey Brian. How are you doing today Brian. Remember me from high school? You keep walking around the gym but you're not sweating or anything. Get on a treadmill you lazy bastard. That's why you're stuck doing stupid movies like Domino. Hey where are you going? I'm sorry I was mean. No I'm not. Lame ass Brian Austen Green.
The song's over. If you're alone and you need a friend... crap it's "Boom Boom Boom Boom." I can't stroll to this. I'm going to have to change the song or start strut sashaying. Okay, I'll strut sashay. If someone's behind me they're probably laughing because I look so stupid doing this. "Boom boom boom boom I want you in my room, let's spend the night together, together in my room." Dang. This girl just met the guy and she's already taking him back to her place. Isn't she worried he might be some crazy serial killer. Foolish girl. She thinks she's taking him back to her place to bump uglies but really he's going to chop her up and take her back to his place in a cooler. Also, there's AIDS. What if he has AIDS? People these days.
Hey there's Useless Gym Girl. What does her shirt say... "Your boyfriend thinks I'm hot." Yeah he does. Especially when he's peeing and it burns. Then he thinks "Damn, that bitch was hot." I wonder what workout she's going to do in canvas daisy dukes. Also, isn't that material highly conducive to chafing? Useless Gym Girl is too long of a name though. And UGG is unpleasant to say. We'll call her "Houseplant." That's what DJ Metronome calls the hot girl at his bar who can't bartend. Houseplant. Hahahaha holy fuck that's funny as hell. That guy is funny.
Alright next song, next song. Oh crap it's "Pump It." That means I have to sprint. We'll crank it up to... oh shit, too fast, too fast. Who do you think you are, Jackie Joyner Kersee. We're running, we're running. Damn this is a long song. How many seconds have passed. 13. 13 fucking seconds?? That's it?? Oh my God. This is the longest song in the history of the fucking world. Stupid Black Eyed Peas. Stupid Black Eyed Peas and their stupid long ass songs. Okay how many seconds has it been now. 28?? Fuck fuck fuck. You can do this. Don't die. Wow my heartbeat is going awfully fast. Is that safe? Or am I going to be like those people that snort coke for the first time and then die because their heart beats too fast. Like Regina Morrow in that Sweet Valley High book. That was so sad. She was so nice and smart and even had a modeling career going for her. And then what happens. She snorts coke at a party because her slut boyfriend Bruce Patman made out with slutty ass Amy Whats-Her-Face.
Okay we're going to have to go back to strut sashaying. I'm tired. Hey that guy is cute. Eeew, no he's not. I wonder if Geo is going to walk by anytime soon. He's hot.
*45 minutes later*
Okay 5 more minutes. 5 more minutes. Also, suck in your gut for the last 5 minutes. Work out those abs. What abs? Okay work towards those abs. Suck it in beeyatch!! Okay okay. I'm sucking, I'm sucking. Wait, that didn't come out right. How weird that these seconds are ticking by slower than normal seconds. The Normal Second to Treadmill Second ratio is like 3:1. Freaking treadmill time. Almost done. I wonder what Geo is doing. He's probably doing that crazy ab thing where he hangs on the bar and lifts his legs up. I should do that. Yeah right. I should go have a burrito is what I should fricken do. Or maybe some pizza. Yum. Or maybe some burritos and a pizza. That works. Okay we're finished. Thank God. And you're still alive. Remember to hang out for a moment on the treadmill so you don't get vertigo when you step off. I said remember to-- never mind.
July 10, 2006
Gym Rat
Gym Rat
Well, it's official. Today was my first day working out at the gym. You know you guys didn't believe I'd actually get off my ass and join one. My thoughts on the experience:
1. I ran on the treadmill for half an hour and afterwards felt like laying down and dying. Is that what it's supposed to feel like? It just proves my theory that people who like working out are insane. The iPod I inherited from Mike J was invaluable, I kept the Black Eyed Peas song "Pump It" on repeat. Mainly because it had a good beat to run to, unlike Erasure's "Always" which makes you feel like skipping around (I experimented). I built a workout playlist when I got home though and welcome any suggestions. Geo could only think of the training song from Rocky IV, when Rocky was lifting wagons and running around in the snow, while Ivan Drago trains in some state-of-the-art gym. So far I have:
2. Everyone in the gym is in the zone. I feel a bit guilty that I'm prancing around to music only I can hear, while they are striding about with this glazed "I'm going to go bench press that Escalade" look in their eyes. In fact, while on the treadmill, I accidentally knocked my iPod off the timer screen thing and almost went flying off the machine when I tried to catch it. Note to self, just run on the treadmill. Don't run while the upper half of your body dances to "Pump It." Also, singing along is frowned upon.
3. Women like to throw around the evil eye, while men check out everything with breasts or big biceps. I tried to figure out why the women all looked so mean, and I think it's just the type of woman the gym attracts. Let's face it, none of us twenty and thirty-somethings are going to the gym for our health. If I gave a crap about my health I wouldn't have smoked for 10 years, and probably wouldn't have the ability to pound down shots in the double digits while remaining upright. Also, I wouldn't eat cheeseburgers like there was a big cheeseburger drought and I somehow stumbled upon someone's secret cache of Big Macs. I'm going to the gym so I can enter my thirties and be cute. Also, because I can't afford a whole new larger wardrobe. So you figure the women at the gym are either concerned about their image, on some type of budget or are really hungry. Maybe all three. No wonder they're so mean-looking.
4. They might all think I'm a lesbian though. I cased out a few of the women, not to be snooty but to try and figure out what kind of body style I want to work towards. Something more specific than my current goal of "get rid of this stockpile of extra crap around my middle." Anyway, my headphones were on and I may or may not have been saying aloud to myself "That's a nice body." "I want her body." Which I guess can be misconstrued.
5. Geo has been a member of the gym for over a month now, so they're used to seeing him around. But sometimes the people would look at me, then him and I wonder if they were thinking "That guy enrolled his wife in the same gym? What an idiot." But I think Geo is more like me, I barely noticed the guys, I was too busy checking out the women and building some sort of ideal woman Frankenstein in my head out of their parts. Then again if it's tossed in your face there's no harm in looking as long as a person is discreet. I think a lot of women wouldn't care about their man checking out other women, if they didn't have to deal with the smug look some of the women give them afterwards.
6. I am going to try out spin class. Am I a glutton for punishment or what? Anyway, joining the gym may have been useless. Afterwards I was starving. It's weird that people can work out and then go have a salad. I could and would have eaten a horse if it was readily available.
Well, it's official. Today was my first day working out at the gym. You know you guys didn't believe I'd actually get off my ass and join one. My thoughts on the experience:
1. I ran on the treadmill for half an hour and afterwards felt like laying down and dying. Is that what it's supposed to feel like? It just proves my theory that people who like working out are insane. The iPod I inherited from Mike J was invaluable, I kept the Black Eyed Peas song "Pump It" on repeat. Mainly because it had a good beat to run to, unlike Erasure's "Always" which makes you feel like skipping around (I experimented). I built a workout playlist when I got home though and welcome any suggestions. Geo could only think of the training song from Rocky IV, when Rocky was lifting wagons and running around in the snow, while Ivan Drago trains in some state-of-the-art gym. So far I have:
- "Bodies" by Drowning Pool
"Wake Up" by Rage Against the Machine
"Chop Suey" by System of a Down
"You Spin Me" by Marilyn Manson
"Dragula" by Rob Zombie
"When Worlds Collide" by Powerman 5000
"Head Like A Hole" by Nine Inch Nails
"Come On Feel The Noise" by Quiet Riot
and... "Boom Boom Boom Boom" by The Venga Boys.
2. Everyone in the gym is in the zone. I feel a bit guilty that I'm prancing around to music only I can hear, while they are striding about with this glazed "I'm going to go bench press that Escalade" look in their eyes. In fact, while on the treadmill, I accidentally knocked my iPod off the timer screen thing and almost went flying off the machine when I tried to catch it. Note to self, just run on the treadmill. Don't run while the upper half of your body dances to "Pump It." Also, singing along is frowned upon.
3. Women like to throw around the evil eye, while men check out everything with breasts or big biceps. I tried to figure out why the women all looked so mean, and I think it's just the type of woman the gym attracts. Let's face it, none of us twenty and thirty-somethings are going to the gym for our health. If I gave a crap about my health I wouldn't have smoked for 10 years, and probably wouldn't have the ability to pound down shots in the double digits while remaining upright. Also, I wouldn't eat cheeseburgers like there was a big cheeseburger drought and I somehow stumbled upon someone's secret cache of Big Macs. I'm going to the gym so I can enter my thirties and be cute. Also, because I can't afford a whole new larger wardrobe. So you figure the women at the gym are either concerned about their image, on some type of budget or are really hungry. Maybe all three. No wonder they're so mean-looking.
4. They might all think I'm a lesbian though. I cased out a few of the women, not to be snooty but to try and figure out what kind of body style I want to work towards. Something more specific than my current goal of "get rid of this stockpile of extra crap around my middle." Anyway, my headphones were on and I may or may not have been saying aloud to myself "That's a nice body." "I want her body." Which I guess can be misconstrued.
5. Geo has been a member of the gym for over a month now, so they're used to seeing him around. But sometimes the people would look at me, then him and I wonder if they were thinking "That guy enrolled his wife in the same gym? What an idiot." But I think Geo is more like me, I barely noticed the guys, I was too busy checking out the women and building some sort of ideal woman Frankenstein in my head out of their parts. Then again if it's tossed in your face there's no harm in looking as long as a person is discreet. I think a lot of women wouldn't care about their man checking out other women, if they didn't have to deal with the smug look some of the women give them afterwards.
6. I am going to try out spin class. Am I a glutton for punishment or what? Anyway, joining the gym may have been useless. Afterwards I was starving. It's weird that people can work out and then go have a salad. I could and would have eaten a horse if it was readily available.
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